


It's Not Jumping the Karkarodon if You Never Come Back Down

by asingerofsongs, MayGlenn



Series: Stars and Skies [23]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Babies, Back to work, Bondage, Discussion of Pregnancy, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Force Visions, Handcuffs, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Marital Stress, Military-Industrial Bullshit, Our Favorite Zero to Mutiny Flyboy, Poe Dameron Is A Mess, Remember the Titans References, Republic vs Resistance, Rose is a Disney Princess, Safe Sane and Consensual, Stealing Things We Liked From TLJ And Making Them Better, Stormtrooper Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asingerofsongs/pseuds/asingerofsongs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: “Okay, everyone sit. Let's have a talk, shall we?” Leia said dryly, though not without sympathy, and gestured to the chairs on either side of Rey. “What is wrong with the three of you?”Poe looked around at himself, Rey, and Finn, and laughed wetly. “We’re a mess, oh my gods. Why didn’t you permanently retire us?”“Because you’re adults, even if you’re not acting like it,” she said, and then sighed. “Look, I know they don’t make it easy in the Republic. There’s a lot of bureaucracy you need to organize this many people without a dictatorship, which is why the Empire was so appealing. Freedom is never easy. Would you rather us go back to being underfunded and outnumbered?”“Yes,” came three answering replies.





	1. Prologue

Mostly, Rey managed to share dreams with her husbands: sometimes they were naked in school or at cadet roll call, sometimes they were flying through clouds, sometimes they were swimming through oceans. Sometimes they were trying to solve puzzles that had no meanings or were trying to run from an unknown assailant. Normal dreams. They rarely remembered the dreams, unless it was some kind of wet dream that woke Finn or Poe up enough to want to do something about it. 

But when Rey had nightmares it was because she was in a deep sleep, and Poe and Finn were sleeping deeply, too, almost too deep for dreams. And she only ever had two nightmares—

Either that old dream of dominion, commanding a star destroyer as she commanded her husbands with the Force, manipulating them to her will. In those dreams she was powerful, unstoppable. She gave in to the power of the dark side, and she  _ loved  _ it. 

Or else she stood in the snow again, against Kylo Ren, but this time there was blood between her legs and children crying in the distance, and she fell to the snow in a flash of bright light that she knew would destroy her. 

She asked Luke about such dreams, but his answers were unhelpful. “No one can interpret your dreams but you yourself. You must do what you feel is right.” 

The worst part was, she still had, on occasion, happy dreams with those extra children, Sam’s sisters, but though she tried to remember, she couldn’t tell if  _ she  _ was in the dream. Finn no longer addressed her in the dream. She just watched the scene play out from the vantage point of the Tree.

That Tree where Kes said he could sometimes feel Shara’s presence, even long after she was gone.

She always woke from these dreams in a cold sweat, and never suddenly. It was always like surfacing through thick sludge, and it always left her wandering the halls of the house at odd hours, unable to sleep, while Finn and Poe slept on, oblivious.

It was a good thing. They’d had enough of nightmares, and she didn’t want to make them deal with hers.

It was why she was currently sitting in the quiet kitchen, a cup of tea between her palms, staring absently into the dark, trying not to dwell on what seemed to be only two paths—neither of which she  could accept. She perhaps would have liked to ask Luke, or Kes, or even Leia, for their wisdom, but she just...couldn't. If they interfered, who was to say the future dark side vision wouldn't somehow come true? Or—or what if she  _ was  _ supposed to tell them, and unwittingly brought that future to fruition by keeping this to herself? What if there was  _ no  _ right decision in this, and every end either led to her becoming the next Kylo Ren, or ceasing to be anything entirely?

She dropped her forehead to the table and tried to find a peaceful place in her mind, to no avail.

“Rey?” 

The voice that called for her was neither here nor not-here, and when Rey looked up, Obi-Wan’s blue ghost shimmered before here, quite faint. “Are you...alright?” 

“Are you even real?” she retorted, and took a sip of her tea. 

Obi-Wan didn’t have an answer for that, not immediately. 

“What is real?” he asked finally, philosophically. 

“You tell me. You're the one with all the experience. Why are you here?” Rey asked him. But she recognized when she was being grouchy purely for the sake of being grouchy, and tried again. 

“It's good to see you,” she added, though even she was sure she sounded tired.

“You're up late. Nightmares again?” he pressed, gently. Obi-wan avoided smalltalk, as a rule, possibly because it required too much energy. “Nightmares are not always real.”

Rey frowned at her cup of tea—it was going cold.

“Of course nightmares aren't. Nightmares are never real, or we'd call them something else. What's the difference between a dream and a Force vision? That's what I need to know,” she said.

“Sometimes Force Visions can seem like nightmares,” Obi-Wan said, sounding marginally annoyed. “If they Jedi could tell that, many things might have worked out very differently.”

Rey shrugged. She wasn’t Darth Vader.

“Which one do you feel is true?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I'd really rather neither of them,” Rey said softly. “How do I make sure the dreams don't happen? Is that even possible? What if I try to stop it and make it happen?” 

“That’s the danger, of course,” Obi-Wan mused. “I find the best way to determine the will of the Force is being most mindful of the self, so that I can filter it out. I know what I desire, and what I fear. Our own dreams are very often one of the two.”

Rey frowned. 

“I don't know which came first, being afraid of dying or turning to the dark side, or the dreams. I just know I'm scared of both now, and the dreams are just getting worse, and I wish I didn't have to sleep. It's horrible waking up and feeling like you're racing the clock and something terrible is going to happen no matter what you do to avoid it,” she said to Obi-Wan’s ghost. 

She wished he would tell her there was nothing to fear, that the danger she faced wasn't the danger that invaded her sleep. But she didn't think he could tell her that with absolute certainty, and that just made everything worse.

“What is it you feel you must do?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Rey was beginning to wonder if he, too, was a dream. He was just helping her contingency-plan, wasn’t giving her any  _ answers _ . 

“If either are true…I can't leave them with nothing. Sam is supposed to have a sister—Poe and Finn are meant to have a daughter. The Tree said so.” She sighed deeply, for this particular vision had once held so much promise for her. Now she wasn't sure. 

“But I'm not sure I'm a part of that future anymore. Maybe I never was.” 

She took her hands off her mug and rubbed her face, then tipped her head back to look at the ceiling. “I don't want to leave them. I don't want them to have to lose me.” 

Losing Poe had nearly destroyed her and Finn both, and if her loss hurt them even half as much... 

“But if the Force has already decided. I have to give them the future the Force Tree told me they would have.” 

She paused and took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears. “I have to give them what little I can. So they can be happy, even if I’m not here to be happy with them.  _ I have to _ .” 

She took another breath as her voice broke, but with it came the crying she'd been so carefully avoiding. Part of her wished Poe or Finn or Kes would come stumbling in, catch her, and make her tell them—just so they could give her the comfort of warm arms and a steady shoulder to lean on and  _ love _ .

“Is a child all you can give them?” Obi-Wan asked.

Rey’s eyes hardened, and she stopped crying abruptly, gritting her teeth instead. 

“Oh,  _ no _ . If I’m going to die, I am going to take Kylo Ren and Snoke and whatever’s left of the First Order with me. They’ll never hurt anyone again.  _ No  _ child will ever grow up without her mother—” 

Well, except for  _ hers _ . She wiped a hand viciously across her eyes, wondering if this was really about her future daughters, or her.

“Kylo Ren and Snoke will never orphan another child. If mine grow up without their mother, they'll know who she was, that she loved them and their fathers and their family more than everything in the galaxy, and that was the only reason she was willing to leave them. If the Force demands my life as payment to restore balance so my children can have a peaceful world, fine. I won't be happy about it, I won't accept it, but so be it. Better me than them.” 

She quieted a little and ran a hand through her loose hair. “But it's still not fair. Not to me, or Finn and Poe, or Sam. I know the Force doesn't care, it just strives for balance. But it's not  _ fair _ that we would finally be so close,  _ so close _ , to lives we never could have dreamed of, and here it's tearing them all apart by taking mine. All I want, all I want for them, is to be happy. And it's all going to be ruined. And I can't fix it, Obi-Wan. I can fix starships and help broken people fix themselves, but I can't fix this. And I'm afraid I can't avoid it, and I'm afraid of what I'd do to avoid it.” 

There was the dark side again. Waiting.

“Perhaps...serenity and acceptance is the best philosophy,” Obi-Wan began. “Worrying about this will not help, since you don’t know whether—”

“How can I  _ not  _ worry about it?!” Rey shouted, but fell silent immediately, worried she’d wake someone in the house. 

“I didn’t say it was easy. But you must agree that worrying won’t help. What will help?”

Rey thought quietly for a moment. Snoke’s head on a platter and Ren in prison would be a good start—as long as she didn't have to be in the middle of it. But that was unlikely to happen. Luke still needed her help to accomplish that.

“Hoping for the best and expecting the worst. I can't tell Poe and Finn. They'll either try to talk me out of it or go with me, and I can't let them. I won't have them in the crossfire of a Jedi battle, even if they're doing it to help me. It's too dangerous,” she said. 

Unspoken was the other part of the problem: if anything happened to all three of them, they would leave their children alone in this world. And while the Bey-Dameron clan would love them like their own, they would still know they’d once had parents who loved them, and were now gone. And Rey wouldn't willingly put her children in that position, not even for the company and protection of her husbands.

“You know they would want to be with you. To share this with you. That is why you got married, isn't it?” Obi-Wan paused. “Don't go where they can't follow.”

“I won't. I'll never turn to the dark side, not even to—” But she couldn't say it, and maybe that didn't bode well. “I think Finn has the right idea. I  _ want _ to have a family, but I  _ have _ to...save the galaxy first. He deserves that life, when this is all over.”

An angry part of Rey thought she deserved that, too. Maybe she always would be hungry. 

“I can protect them. I will. And I'm going to be there for them, and give them everything I can until—no matter when I—”

“Rey,” her great-grandfather pleaded, but he was fading. Maybe he was never really there. But she felt calmer, steadier. Ready.

_ Come get it. _


	2. Chapter 2

“I-I’m sorry, sir, Admiral Dameron, sir. You’re not allowed to, uh. I mean. You’re not cleared to—”

Poe didn’t know who this kid was. Some Republican from a Core World, judging by the accent. Full of deferment that was weird to experience after so long in the Resistance—though he might be getting special treatment because Poe was even wearing his _uniform_ today.

And a younger Poe might have blown up in this kid’s face, but Poe was an adult, damn it, so he was going to handle this like an adult.

(By going and crying to Leia, probably.)

“Okay, I thought I was cleared to return to duty,” Poe said, carefully. “So whose authority is keeping an Admiral from logging some flight time in one of the new T-85s under his command? Hell, I’ll take a Y-wing out. Whatever’s available. I don’t want to get you in trouble, son.”

Oh, he was being _that_ guy. First day on the job as upper brass and he’d already called someone ‘son.’

“I’m sorry, Admiral. It says Needs Physical Clearance from Medical and—”

“ _Ah_ . Must be a computer mistake.” Poe was annoyed at how many more computers had shown up on Base recently. They seemed like a security risk. Couldn’t those things be spliced? _Okay, now you sound really old, Dameron_. “Haven’t checked in with the good doctor. Thank you, Ensign.”

…

“Hey, Colonel—can I have a word?”

Finn looked up from reading—endless reading, rules and regulations, command structures, personnel files, all of it Republic required reading—to see Sevens standing in front of his desk.

“Nice uh...office, by the way,” they told him. He grimaced.

“They knew I'd try to hide if I didn't have to be anywhere, and then they never could have given me this,” he responded, waving the holopad. “Something wrong?”

“Sir, you know we have some new faces…”

Finn sighed. “Trouble with some of the new stormtroopers?”

“No, sir. Republic. They didn't like how we organized the weapons,” they told him.

Finn sighed, at first, disappointed. Why did _they_ care?

He frowned and stood.

“Let's...just go talk to them about it, then, shall we?”

As they walked, Sevens filled him in on how everything was going with their new partners-in-arms. Sevens was not one to mince words, even if it meant telling the brutal truth, and Finn was both glad and surprised to hear that really, for the most part, people had been making a concerted effort to get along.

It would make ironing out this one small misunderstanding so much easier than he'd expected—and it most certainly needed ironing out. The armory was in a state of what he considered to be chaos again, and Finn took a deep breath before approaching a new soldier dressed in the Republic uniform.

“Excuse me, soldier, but on whose orders were these weapons reorganized?” he asked pleasantly.

“Those would be mine,” someone said behind Finn, and he whirled to see a man perhaps Poe’s age, humanoid, but with green-tinted skin. “And you are?”

“Finn. Dameron. Colonel Dameron—I was responsible for the organization of our weapons, and would prefer they not be rearranged,” Finn answered, taken aback and stumbling over his rank and identification. Finn wasn’t proud, exactly, but he was a little used to people just automatically knowing who he was, so this came as something of a surprise.

He glanced at Sevens, whose face was very carefully neutral. He'd seen them with that look before—it was one of a person trying not to annoy anyone, and in fact trying to go completely without notice by being as discussed and unobtrusive as possible. He wasn't entirely sure they weren't holding their breath in an attempt to remain perfectly still.

Okay, so Sevens didn’t like this guy.

“Ah, well that does explain several things,” the man said, with a finality that bothered Finn. “Colonel, your assistance with the armories is no longer needed. As this is a Republican operation, we will be arranging all weapons to the standards of the Republic military. While I am sure you had only the best interests of your _stormtroopers_ in mind, _others_ must be able to access weapons when and where they are familiar with them being located. I'm sure you understand.”

Finn set his jaw, grinding his teeth together before he could say something he’d regret when Leia had to scold him for it. Perhaps this was a misunderstanding. Maybe this man hadn't spoken with Kix and didn't realize that there was some leeway given in the Resistance where it helped to make the ex-stormtroopers more comfortable—especially when it actually made things more efficient, as was the case here.

“No, in fact, I am afraid I don't understand, Colonel—?” he replied, instead of acting on assumption.

“Colonel Nokala Lightbridge,” the man replied. “And we can discuss this later, as I'm currently busy seeing to the _other_ weapons lockers on this base.” And with that, he turned and walked away. Behind him, the soldiers he'd set to reorganizing the locker watched Finn with some curiosity. They inched away from Sevens, who Finn had to admit tended to adopt the philosophy that if something was intimidating them, they should become more intimidating. Finn gave the soldiers a nod and a level “as you were,” and beckoned for Sevens to follow him.

He had a bad feeling about this.

…

“Well, Rey, you appear to be in perfect health,” Dr. Kalonia said at the conclusion of their exam, “so I’m not exactly sure why you wanted to see…”

“I want to get pregnant.”

“ _Oh_.” Dr. Kalonia smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Rey, you could have said that from the beginning. Good thing you mentioned it before I gave you your next round of birth control hypos. So it’ll just be a few weeks until those wear off…”

“Hang on. A few weeks? I need to get pregnant now!” Rey said, before she realized how childish that sounded. “I mean. Soon. This cycle.”

(Except, no one understood, she didn’t have _time_ to wait. Her dreams were getting more vivid and more frequent.)

She sighed. “Sorry. I just thought…”

Dr. Kalonia put a hand on her shoulder. “Rey. You’re young and very healthy, and both of your husbands are also young and healthy. Give it a week after—I believe your cycle ends on the 33rd of this month—and I’m sure—”

“I have to have twins. One from each father,” Rey blurted out.

Dr. Kalonia blinked. “That’s...oddly specific? Certainly there’s some more natural family planning we could—”  

“I’m also really _not_ desperately interested in sexual intercourse,” Rey said. “And even less interested in the idea of doing it just because I’m ‘fertile.’ I know it’s possible to do it with...medical equipment, right? _In vitro_ fertilization. I’m not bothered by needles.”

Dr. Kalonia sighed. “All right. Let’s talk about a few things.”

…

“Dr. K? Doc—oh, hello. Is Major Kalonia in?”

A stern-looking Twi’lek, in full Republic uniform under a crisp white lab coat, greeted him.

“She’s with a patient at the moment. Can I help you, Admiral?”

“Ah, yes. Perhaps? I—I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know you.” Poe made it a point to know everyone one base, even though it was kind of bafflingly busy since they had returned. It was almost as though they had gone away on their honeymoon and returned to some parallel-universe base, with different people staffing it.

“Major Carc,” she answered shortly. “I’m here to work alongside Major Kalonia. What can I help you with?”

Well.

“Good to meet you, Doctor.” Poe would rather have spoken to Dr. Kalonia, but this woman had just as much power over paperwork as she did, so. “Well, it appears there’s some sort of silly mix-up. I guess I never got signed off to fly again after my, ah, recovery, so can we get that squared away, or do we need to run some tests?”

“Name?”

Oh. Poe had assumed—but that was fine. “Dameron. Rear Admiral.”

She went to a computer console. “Dameron. Yes, it says here you’re not cleared for Active Duty without a complete physical aptitude test. Since you were off-duty for six months, your old scores are no longer good.”

“My...what? From _basic_?” Poe squeaked. “Major, that can’t be right. Six months? I mean, I lost two when I was on ice, surely that can’t count…”

“I’m sorry, Admiral. Shall I schedule you some PT time?”

They had to _schedule_ PT time, now?

“Schedule me a meeting with Dr. Kalonia, please.”

…

“You're correct, of course, there are ways of getting pregnant that don't require sex, and of course it's entirely your decision to go that route,” Dr. Kalonia said. She tapped her fingers on the counter where she leaned.

“And the success rate is certainly higher than it used to be, so there should be no technological limitations, although the process is much more labor intensive and usually takes longer than traditional means. But is there a particular reason behind the specificity of your plans?” she asked. “The number, their fathers, _or_ the method?”

Rey couldn't decide how to answer any of this, because none of the answers would make Dr. Kalonia happy.

“I’m...not interested in having sex like that. That often. And it's inefficient and unlikely to end in having twins, especially one from Poe and one from Finn,” she said, settling for answering the easiest question. Then she found herself telling her the real reason: “The Force showed me that’s what's supposed to happen.”

“Ah,” Dr. Kalonia, a woman of science, said.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Rey grumbled, seeing the look on her face.

“That’s not it at all. Rey, you'll forgive me for asking, but as both your doctor and someone who cares about you as a person, is...everything alright?” Kalonia asked, going straight for the point with a laser-like focus.

Rey blinked at her.

“Yes. Everything is fine. It just has to be that way,” she said.

Dr. Kalonia didn't look convinced, and just stared mildly at Rey to wait for an answer.

“You can't tell Poe and Finn, right? Unless I tell you you can?” Rey asked, and Dr. Kalonia’s eyebrows rose. “Patient confidentiality.”

“What's wrong?” she asked, sounding slightly alarmed.

…

“Sevens, I'm sorry. I'll figure this out,” Finn said to Sevens while they took a quick chow break in the mess hall, after a brief attempt at finding anyone he could ask about Lightbridge. Whether the man disliked Finn, stormtroopers, or the Resistance more Finn was hard-pressed to say. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, which had gotten long on their time off. He needed to get a haircut, or even his own _hair_ was going to get out of control. “Find something else to do until then, and avoid the weapons lockers. Actually, just avoid Lightbridge until I can figure out what we're dealing with. Tell the rest of the stormtroopers to do the same thing.”

“Jess is upgrading her X-Wing, and I told her I’d help if I could,” Sevens answered, and Finn nodded absently.

“Sure, whatever you—Deeks! Slow _down,_ ” Finn yelped as the younger man barreled around a corner and skidded across the mess hall right to them.

“Sir, we have a problem,” Deeks told him without even apologizing. “Oh, hi, Sevens. You should come too. Timons is kind of…she was freaking out, so I told her if she went to her quarters I’d come find you.”

Finn cursed under his breath, frustrated with the direction the day seemed to be taking. Timons had been doing so much better, but “better” was relative—just like everyone else, she had good days and bad days. It wouldn't take much to push the balance of those back toward the bad days.

Deeks led them back to the circle of pods the earliest of the ex-troopers shared with some of their Resistance buddies, and they found Timons in the single room (still bare after all this time, and so clean it felt sterile). She was sitting on the floor, her back pressed into the corner, and she was sobbing, her knees pulled to her chest and head resting on them.

Finn had never seen her cry.

“Timons?” he said hesitantly from the doorway.

“I have to leave. I can't—I can't stay here, anymore,” she cried without even looking up, and Finn sighed softly.

He turned to Deeks as Sevens crept into the room after them and went to Timons.

“Could you go find Dr. Lan, in case Time needs to talk to her?” Finn asked Deeks, and the young man nodded and practically bolted. Finn turned back to Timons and Sevens.

“Hey Time. What's going on?” Sevens was asking her, and Finn stayed where he was, unsure if he was really going to be of much assistance here. Timons still wasn't entirely comfortable around him, and he worried she’d shut down if he got involved.

“I can’t _work_ when he’s standing there. It’s like he’s always about to yell or hit something, and I’m afraid he’s going to corner me and—and I panic. I can’t _think_ . And he can tell me to do _anything_ . He’s my superior officer and I’m _scared_ .” She took a breath and added, very softly, “It was _safe_ here. I don't know where to go.”

There was little doubt in Finn’s mind who had upset Timons so badly, but he had to be sure.

When Sevens turned to look at him with their eyebrows raised in question, he had a feeling both of them were thinking the same thing. He took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking, lest Timons think he was angry with her.

“Okay—listen, Timons. You don’t need to go anywhere. You’re still under my command. Who was trying to tell you otherwise?” he asked.

Time eyed him uncertainly. In the First Order, this would have been a trick. She sighed sharply—this was not the First Order.

“It’s Colonel Lightbridge, sir. I was in the weapons locker by the firing range and he came in and ordered his people to move everything around.” She wiped her eyes hastily. “I was just sitting there, and he asked me why I wasn’t helping and wasn’t I aware he was my superior officer. He said he's been charged with bringing the Resistance up to compliance with Republic regulations, one way or another.”

Finn frowned at having his suspicions confirmed. There was clearly some confusion somewhere about who had authority over the ex-stormtroopers. Kix had assured Finn that nothing would be done to or with the ex-stormtroopers without Finn’s being made aware of it, at the very least. It wasn’t the most traditional arrangement, but Kix had apparently decided early on that it was the best arrangement for everyone involved, to Finn’s relief. Lightbridge either wasn’t aware (this seemed unlikely to Finn), or just didn’t care about the agreement. Hadn’t this guy been shitty enough for one day?

But it wasn’t Timons’ responsibility to deal with him.

“Okay. First, no one is sending you anywhere. Second, the Resistance absolutely does _not_ allow superior officers to strike subordinates, or vice versa. Finally, and Time, this is the most important thing—” Finn paused until he was certain she was really listening. “ _No one_ has the authority or the right to give you the kinds of orders you’re afraid of. Do you understand? If anyone even _tries_ , you report them, to me or Connix or Rey or the General—or any of the doctors.”

Timons gave him a small nod, which he took as an affirmative.

“Dr. Lan will be here soon, but are you alright with Sevens staying here until she comes?”

Timons nodded again.

“Good. You’ll be okay. I’m going to deal with this. Thanks, Sevens,” he said to the other soldier, and then left.

He waited until he was well away from Timons’ quarters to punch a wall. This was going to take patience he wasn't sure he possessed.

…

And so the three of them  gathered in Leia’s office that evening.

She tried to give them tea, but Poe was pacing, Rey sat staring at her tea guiltily, and Finn was angry to the point where he wanted to cry.

“They just—they could reassign me to Coruscant now, you know! Where being an Admiral is just being a politician, like—”

“Watch your mouth, Poe, _I’m_ a politician,” Leia warned.

“You’re nothing like these lazy shitheads,” Poe said.

“Don’t swear in front of your baby,” Leia said, currently holding Sam. “No one’s sending you to Coruscant, Poe. You’re an Admiral now, so they can’t just reassign you like that.”

“That’s just it, _you_ can’t stop them! I’m a Republic man now, they say _fly_ , I say _how high?_ Except it would be nice if I _could_ fly, but they won’t even let me do that anymore! Not til I pass this basic physical...crap!” Poe said, with a glance at the baby, who was getting agitated at everyone’s agitation. “Ugh, if only we hadn’t spent so long on our honeymoon. I should have been counting that. Who _counts_ how long they are out of commission?”

“Poe, I liked our honeymoon,” Rey accused, and her lip was wobbling, so Poe sighed and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“I know. I did, too. I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated. You want a hug, sweetheart?”

Rey nodded, feeling a bit pathetic for it, and leaned gratefully into Poe’s arms. She offered no explanation for her own mood. Instead, she looked for Finn, who was so _angry_ that she worried he might actually, at long last, lose that carefully held temper of his.

“Finn. Breathe. Holding your breath is not going to make you less angry, love, but it _will_ make you pass out,” she said gently.

She could feel him fighting with himself, trying to let go and afraid of what would happen if he did. But eventually he let his breath out in a sharp sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, and it was probably the least sincere apology Rey had ever heard from him. She raised her eyebrows and glanced at Poe, whose hugs she was still monopolizing.

“I think you should go hug Finn,” she suggested.

Leia chuckled softly.

“Here, Finn. Hug your kid, he's becoming concerned,” she told him, handing the fussing armful of Sam over to his dad for their mutual comfort.

The baby reached for Finn’s face and held it between mechno claw and tiny palm. After considering Finn for a long moment, he sniffled and blinked still-teary eyes.

“Oh, Sam. It's alright, sweet boy, my Sammy, don't be sad,” Finn said.

This seemed to only make Sam more sad.

“Little one, you're safe, you're fine, we're okay. Don't cry, love,” Finn practically begged his son, and then Finn burst into tears.

This, of course, made Sammy _very_ unhappy indeed.

“Okay, everyone sit. Let's have a talk, shall we?” Leia said dryly, though not without sympathy, and gestured to the chairs on either side of Rey. “What is _wrong_ with all of you?”

Poe looked around at them and laughed wetly. “We’re a mess, oh my gods. Why didn’t you permanently retire us?”

“Because you’re adults, even if you’re not acting like it,” she said, and then sighed. “Look, I know they don’t make it easy in the Republic. There’s a lot of bureaucracy you need to organize this many people without a dictatorship, which is why the Empire was so appealing. Freedom is never easy. Would you rather us go back to being underfunded and outnumbered?”

“Yes,” came three answering replies.

“Well, actually, I don’t care,” Rey said. “Except I can’t get pregnant yet.”

Poe blinked. “Wait, what do you mean? I thought those shots only lasted a few months?”

“Yes! Two _months_ before we can even try, Poe! What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Ah.” Poe looked at her like she was crazy, and calmly took Sam from Finn’s arms to hand him to Rey. “We can start by raising this one?”

Rey grunted.

“See, I knew you wouldn’t understand!” she said, hugging Sam close.

Poe gave Finn a significant look: _Can you deal with her?_

“You could do...what you were going to do anyway? Jedi things?” Finn said, mystified as to Rey’s sudden obsession with having children _right now_. It concerned him. Other than going back to Jakku to wait for her parents, he'd never known her to worry at something so single-mindedly that she could worry about nothing else. “Hang out with Kes and Sam? Or help Timons with...life.”

This actually seemed to distract Rey for a moment, and she raised her head from kissing the top of Sam’s head to look at him with concern.

“What's wrong with Timons? I thought she was doing a lot better,” she said, and Finn huffed.

“Yeah, she was, and then Colonel ‘Rules and Regulations, Morale be Damned’ Lightbridge happened,” he muttered darkly. “I think he's punishing ex-stormtroopers.”

“Whoa, he _better_ not be,” Poe exclaimed. “What the hell? What’s Kix say? _I’ll_ fight him if—”

“I’m pretty sure that’s _not_ how we did things even when we were Resistance, Admiral, no matter how tempting,” Leia reminded him.

Poe grunted in frustration, but calmed himself. “I mean, okay. I can pass those tests. I can deal with—”

He grinned at Rey with an idea: “ _You_ can whip me into shape, you know, so I can pass my physicals. But this Lightbridge guy—he can’t be doing that to Timons. Or any of them. There are rules and regs that _protect_ people from that kind of discrimination.”

Finn threw his hands into the air. “I can't stop him! He's not breaking any rules. He's just being...really hard on them. Unnecessarily hard on them, which probably wouldn't be an enormous problem if most of them weren't so traumatized. I already tried to explain to him how we've been handling things with them, and he didn't care. Said if they couldn't handle the basic requirements of the Republic military, they should find a new line of work. And then he implied that we had been too easy on them, and if they could survive the First Order they could survive anything the Republic could dish out.”

Finn paced restlessly. The man hated all of them: he didn't _want_ the ex-stormtroopers in the Republic. For all Finn knew, he wanted them all in prison the rest of their lives. He clearly thought Finn was unworthy of his rank, and he thought he was stupid—everything he said to him was dripping with condescension.

“I don't know what to do. I can't fight him, and he won't listen to me even if I could get him to talk to me. But I won't let him treat them like that. We all left the First Order because we were tired of being treated like we were disposable,” he said, and looked to Leia.

“What do I do?” he asked, sounding a little desperate.

“Start by not stooping to his level. You're smarter than him, Finn,” Leia said. “Throw the book back at him. If he's being preferential, or you can prove discrimination based on ex-stormtrooper status…”

Finn thought about this.

“But—he's not technically breaking any rules. He's just treating the ex-stormtroopers like raw recruits. I can't prove he's doing anything he wouldn't do to any other soldier he was training, it’s just that that won’t _work_ with them. With us. I mean—I’ll keep a list,” he said (for all the good it would do him).

Timons would have to be given a job somewhere Lightbridge couldn't subject her to any of the usual soldier training. Something should really be done about the weapons lockers, and he would have to find out who else had been threatened with reassignment or given unrealistic or unfair assignments because they had been a stormtrooper. He assumed it was many of them—whether they were pilots or his old ground troops (now under Torch's capable command).

Perhaps Kix, who understood as well as anyone what the ex-stormtroopers were like and what they needed, would help him.

“Discrimination is absolutely breaking the rules!” Poe screeched, then turned to Leia. “Shit, is ‘ex-stormtrooper’ a protected category? That’s one for the politicians. Tell Lando that. Someone write that down.”

“Language, Poe,” Leia reminded him. “And sit down, you’re making me tired.”

“Can’t, gotta train,” he said with a wink, and Leia rolled her eyes.

Rey was cuddling Sam, who was still watching everyone with slight nervousness.

When Poe and Finn looked at her, she shrugged. “He needs his sisters.”

This made Poe stop, and he sat beside Rey again, pulling her into another hug. “Hey. He’ll get them, sweetheart. There’s no rush! None at all. It’s in your vision, so we don’t need to worry, right? It’ll happen.”

“That’s not how the Force works,” Rey muttered against his shoulder.

Sam shrieked at being squished, and Poe picked him up.

“How’s my boy doing, huh?” he asked, kissing his cheek.

“SHIT!” the baby said.

Poe was so startled he almost dropped him. “ _What_ was that, kiddo?”

But Sam was now interested in the buttons of Poe’s shirt and didn’t repeat it. For several seconds, there was complete silence.

Then Rey and Finn yelped, “POE!” and “SAMMY?!” at the same time before dissolving into giggles, which was of course the opposite of how they should have responded to Sam chirping a curse word so merrily.

Leia smiled crookedly at their collective astonishment.

“ _That_ is certainly not language suitable for such a sweet little Sammy,” she said, gently scolding, but Sam only giggled and tried to show her one of Poe’s buttons that he had managed to grasp in his hand. He didn't seem to fully understand why it was attached to his Papa’s clothes.

“We're gonna need a swear jar,” Poe groaned.

“It's no proper punishment if you come up with the idea yourself,” Rey said, actually laughing this time.

“Every bad word, I have to run another klik or something,” Poe suggested, and then groaned again. That really would be torture.

“And you'll have to eat healthy foods. High protein, low fat,” Finn suggested, grinning only because this was going to be nothing compared to stormtrooper diet control and Poe was kind of a big baby.

“Ugh, you're killing me,” Poe whined, which made Sam giggle and flail. Luckily, he now had a mechno made of softer materials, so hitting Poe in the face wasn't damaging. “There's not going to be a pilot more physically fit than me after this. And we're gonna take Sammy for a spin the way my mom taught me.”

“As I recall, you puked the first time,” Leia pointed out. “You'll have to clean that up, Admiral or no.”

“Worth it,” Poe said, kissing Sam's cheek.

Eventually, when everyone felt better, Leia sent them away with a good-natured, “Go on, you're dismissed. Behave like the professionals I know you to be,” and a distracted wave.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until days later that Finn got any further than paperwork, and once he did come up with something, it was quite on accident. During lunch, of all things, because Jessika Pava was chatty during lunch.

“And apparently that's why they call me ‘The Great Destroyer’! And what’s more, they've told the Republican droids, because they're terrible gossips,” she was explaining to Sevens while they shared a tray of food. “I bet if we ever _really_ needed to get a message out quick, we could just tell R2. Droids at the end of the galaxy would have it by mid-afternoon. Oh, hi Finn! Where're your other halves?”

Finn snorted softly, because they'd all been so busy that none of them ever really knew where the other two were. “Saving the galaxy, probably… What were you saying about droids and gossip?”

Jess laughed. “Have you _met_ R2-D2? Even BB-8 is a little snitch.”

Finn nodded, the idea percolating. “I think they could be helpful with a little problem we're having.”

“The droids? With— _ooh_.” Sevens grinned and leaned in. “You mean Lightbridge?”

Finn shrugged one shoulder.

“Oooooh, subterfuge? Sabotage? _Both_?” Jess asked, positively gleeful.

“Something like that. Want to help me?” Finn asked.

“Of _course_ I do!” she answered, “What can I do?”

“Just don't take any of the droids flying with you any time soon. I need them in one piece…” Finn said.

Sevens cackled.

...

Several days after that, Finn found himself meeting with R2-D2, Threepio, and BB-8 about, of all the crazy things in the world, spying on Lightbridge to keep track of his infractions against ex-stormtroopers.

Threepio was a brilliant tactician, which Finn found impressive, bewildering, and terrifying in equal measure. Poe had told him how instrumental he was in finding Lor San Tekka. However prissy and anxious, the protocol droid was not to be underestimated.

“Oh, Master Finn—Colonel Dameron, I should say—I think this is a splendid plan. Artoo agrees.”

R2-D2 had _actually_ said [Fuck yeah, gonna fuck this fucker up] but Finn didn't blame C-3PO for editorializing.

“So we're watching Lightbridge, Finn, and Kix, and comparing how they treat ex-stormtroopers compared to the others under their command,” Jess said. “And the droids are going to help. You know, guys, I’m really not sure I see it. I'm pretty sure LB is just an asshole to everyone.”

Finn shrugged, though the look he exchanged with Sevens was very certain. “I guess it's possible. But I can't believe he'd have any success in the Republic army if he was like that with _everyone…_ ”

“I mean, it's the _Republic_ , Finn,” Jess said. “But okay. We’ve got the plan?”

Sevens answered her with a devilish grin, and Finn nodded.

[Gonna ruin Colonel Shitbridge’s day!] R2 said.

“Yes, yes, Colonel Dameron, Captain Pava, er—Sevens,” Threepio said after turning to look down at his companion.

[We will watch him, Friends!] BB-8 added, wobbling enthusiastically. [And we’ll get everydroid else on it, too! You can count on us!]

BB-8 was a chatty droid, so this was the best part for them. Poe, especially, could be entertained for hours just listening to what gossip BB-8 had heard from the other droids. It was what Finn suspected kept Poe from totally cracking on long missions.

He watched the droids disperse fondly.

...

Finn was walking by Command on his way to a training session with his old squad when he heard something of a commotion. It wasn't quite to the level of yelling, not yet, but voices were being raised.

And that probably wasn't a good thing.

He sidled up to the doorway and looked in.

“With all due respect, _sir_ ,” Connix was saying, with anything but respect, “You have been harassing her since you walked in here. _No one else_ has objected to her sitting here.”

Behind Connix, Time was frozen at her console—the one they'd moved to its current location so she was next to Connix and had a good view of the whole room and an easy path to the door. It put her slightly out of place, a tech amongst officers, but it worked for her, it bothered no one else, and she did damn good work.

Connix was snarling at Lightbridge, which was not surprising, except that it was Connix, and Connix was every inch an _officer_. And right now she was about to start yelling at her superior.

“Lieutenant Connix, stand down. I'll take care of this,” Finn said, which seemed to snap Timons out of her frozen state. “Colonel Lightbridge, a word with you. Please.”

It was in no way voiced as a request so much as a command, and he nodded sharply to the door.

“The rest of you, as you were,” he added as an afterthought.

Lightbridge at least waited until they were outside, but the volume of his voice let his disappointment be known. “How dare you undermine my authority in the Command Center when I clearly have the Conn? This isn't the Resistance anymore, Colonel.”

“How dare I undermine your authority? Colonel, you are mistaken. Your authority over ex-stormtroopers is limited. That was part of the agreement we made with you, because the Republic is not equipped to deal with ex-stormtroopers. So would you care to explain why you have been handing down trivial orders—and threats of _discipline—_ to the people under _my_ command? If you have a problem with their conduct, you speak to their commanding officer—me, Colonel, whether you like it or not—and leave the discipline of my troops to me,” Finn said, rounding on the other Colonel.

Lightbridge leaned in until he was nose to nose with Finn, exhibiting a barely-contained rage.

“Maybe we should never have to deal with ex-stormtroopers—at any level,” he sneered, and walked away, leaving Finn seething alone in the hallway. He was just about to turn to go back into the Conn when he saw the glint of metal at knee-level, and a droid he didn’t recognize disappeared.

Leia appeared in its place, wearing her civilian clothes instead of her uniform—and Finn felt guilty for bothering her on her day off.

“What is going on?” she snapped. “I could hear the shouting from my quarters! I thought we were under attack!”

“Just—a personality conflict. And a misunderstanding,” _and a real asshole of a Republic colonel..._ “I'm sorry, General,” Finn answered.

Of course Lightbridge had just managed to miss making an ass of himself in front of the General. Of _course_. “I'll take the Conn until someone comes to take over for Lightbridge.”

Leia pinched her brow.

“I thought there’d be trouble with him,” she muttered quietly. “Is everything alright in there?”

Finn shrugged one shoulder. “I don't know. I haven't seen Timons fleeing the room yet, so I assume Connix has talked her down. I don't know exactly what the disagreement was, but it sounded like someone didn't like the unconventional seating arrangement and decided to take it out on the most convenient target,” he answered. Leia had not stopped pinching her brow, and in fact looked like she was getting a headache.

“I can take care of it. You should—enjoy the rest of your day off,” Finn suggested. He doubted she’d taken many of them lately.

“If it makes you feel better, I'll comm you if there are any problems. And I won't even be hysterical!” he joked.

Leia sighed and shook her head, but she was grinning. “All right, Colonel. I’ll hold you to that. Go see to your soldiers.”

She patted his shoulder, and was gone.

In the Conn, things had mostly gone back to normal, except that Connix had one hand on Timons’ back, and Timons was just staring blankly at her console. Finn let the door close behind him and walked over to them, clearing his throat so he wouldn't surprise them.

“Hey. Are you alright, both of you? Time?” he asked, stepping up on Connix’s other side and leaning forward to see around her. Time was still just kind of staring at her screen, still frozen, though at least she wasn't flinching.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, still not looking up. “I, ah. I can keep working, sir. He didn’t—I’m all right.”

She was determined, if that was all she had going for her.

“He damn well better not have—anything—unless he plans on fighting both myself and the General,” Finn said softly, only loud enough for Connix and Timons to hear.

“Get in line, Finn,” Connix answered, dropping the military formality for just a moment to turn to him. Her hand stayed on Timons’ shoulder, which Finn marveled at internally. Timons was leaning into Connix’s hand, which months ago would never have happened. A touch on the shoulder would have had her extricating herself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, I've been in it, don't you worry,” Finn told Connix, and she grinned at him.

Timons still hadn't moved, not a muscle, not even a blink, and there was currently nothing on her screen, which she seemed not to have noticed.

“Timons, look at me for a moment,” Finn said patiently.

Fussing nervously with something with her hands, Timons managed to raise her eyes to Finn's, if briefly, and ended up staring at his shirt.

“No one—and I mean no one—is going to send you anywhere or make you do anything. If they try, you come to me. If Lightbridge has a problem with it, we will bolt this desk to the floor,” he told the tech. “You'll be okay.”

Timons nodded slowly, seeming to get it.

“But the desk is already bolted to the floor,” she said, sounding slightly pained and confused about this.

Finn waited for more, but there was nothing forthcoming. He almost began to worry more, when Connix snorted, trying to cover up a laugh.

When he looked back at Timons, she was smiling softly, too. Almost devilishly. Finn blinked in surprise for a moment and then slowly leaned sideways to see under the desk.

“So it is. Uh. Well, maybe we'll double bolt it, just to be funny,” he suggested, and this got a proper laugh out of Connix.

“That aside,” he added, sobering, “Connix, he _is_ unfortunately your superior. _You_ could get in a lot of trouble for mouthing off at him.”

Connix was giving him an uncertain look that was partially angry. He gave her a small smile.

“I'm not telling you what to do...I can't, remember? But if he starts that shit again, either comm me or send someone to find me. Alright? You don't need to get in trouble, if it can be helped.” He paused to wait for acknowledgment, at least, or maybe to get an earful.

Connix took a big breath as if to begin shouting, and then decided against it with a sigh and a glance around the room at the other Republican soldiers and techs filling out their ranks. “I won’t just sit there if he’s targeting ex-stormtroopers, sir. But I’ll try not to be antagonistic.”

Finn didn’t worry _too_ much about her: she was Leia’s favorite, after all, and if favoritism was going to do anyone any good, it was her.

He stayed for several hours until he was certain everything was under control and Lightbridge wasn't going to come back looking for a fight, and then he passed the conn to Connix. Timons was actually working at her station, which he reasoned probably meant she was okay for now.

The training session he'd been heading for was long over, but he needed something to do or he’d start winding himself up about Lightbridge. He went running instead, away from the base and in the general direction of Kes’ house.

About a mile out, partway up a jungle trail, he saw a familiar figure up ahead and sped up to get closer. When he was sure Poe could hear him, he wolf-whistled.

“These aren’t even the shortest pair of shorts I own,” Poe said with a wink, though he was running shirtless, because he could now (so of course he was going to), and his new tattoos looked fantastic. They were also still sensitive under a shirt (he claimed).

He slowed down until he matched pace with Finn. Poe had already been pushing himself for an hour today, but if Finn was here, he could push himself further. “Come here often?”

But when Finn didn’t laugh, he turned to look at him. “Everything okay?”

“You have to promise me you won't kill him,” Finn said, and, assuming the promise was implicitly given, sighed and added, “Lightbridge is an ass. He tried to reorganize the Conn, because Time sits next to Connix and he doesn't like it, and Connix got up in his face and then when I stepped in he thought he might try raising his voice to me in the hall. The _General_ heard the raised voices and came to check on them, and it's her day off.”

Finn exhaled sharply. “I kriffing _hate_ that guy. He's bullying my ex-stormtroopers!”

Poe growled, though that could have been as much at the running as the situation.

“I can’t promise _I_ won’t kill him if I see him pull anything like that, or if Deeks or any of my pilots tell me he’s been giving them trouble.” Here he sighed, and wanted to stop running, but kept pace with Finn. “You gotta feel bad for them, though. They’re on the wrong side of history, the whole Republic, and most of them feel like shit because they were late to a fight they should have been at in the first place. Folding us back into the Republic was always going to be tricky, not least because of deserters like me—but ex-stormtroopers like you, too.”

“I didn't think it would be this hard. I thought...you know, that they all actually wanted us on their side. But I think Lightbridge just resents that the Republic let a bunch of deserters and ex-stormtroopers in. He's just being _mean_.” They hadn't even _done_ anything to him. He just hated them.

Finn decided he didn't feel like running much anymore as the anger bled off into something more sullen and less energetic. He slowed to a walk.

“Why can't he just leave us alone? We're working just fine, he doesn't need to come in and shake things up just for fun,” he grumbled, and then added, “And now I'm whining.”

Poe, huffing air like he couldn't get enough, clapped Finn on the back, unable to say much until they had walked around for a few minutes and he had caught his breath.

“You're allowed to whine to me, husband,” he said, with a glittering, if sweaty, smile. “But we're working together, like it or not. I like knowing the Resistance _has_ T-85s, even if I'm not allowed in them yet. We have more soldiers and power than we ever had before. You’re the one who knows how big the First Order is. You know how much we need the help.”

Finn sighed and rested both hands on his head. “I know. At least some of them are nice. Kix is wonderful, and a lot of the soldiers and pilots have taken to hanging out with our soldiers and pilots. Have you noticed that? At least some of them are making an effort.”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed, with a shit-eating grin as he cozied up closer to Finn, “some of us are, indeed.”

Finn rolled his eyes at Poe and grinned.

“So how come Rey isn't out here chasing you?” he asked slyly, changing the subject.

Now that they were walking, he could take his eyes off the path without worrying about face-planting, and he shamelessly took a moment to enjoy the view—he had yet to learn Poe’s new tattoos by heart, since they weren't exactly the same as the old ones. They were still sharp and, if he looked closely, just a little raised as if irritated. It made sense, because his own back was still sensitive to his shirt and anything else touching it.

“She’s working with Luke, today,” Poe said. “And then she was going to pick Sammy up from daycare and go home with him.”

The best part about their new arrangement was the fact that they got to live at _home_ , at least while they were stationed on Yavin IV, because the Temples were big, but how much of them was converted into useable space was not. The Republic was only too glad to not have to house a Colonel and a Rear Admiral, which was expensive in space and cost.

The setup on Kes’ farm wasn’t perfect, but at least they had _room_ there. Nana had moved into government-run assisted living by now, since she needed more care than Kes could give her, so Poe, Finn, and Rey had moved into her living space downstairs and they visited her once or twice a week. Sam’s crib was in Poe’s old room upstairs, which meant that stairs had to be navigated when he cried in the middle of the night, but he mostly slept through nights, anyway, and Kes and Poe were slowly transforming the space into something more suited to a baby than a teenager.

The best part was having a bed that actually _fit_ all three of them without them having to sleep on top of one another. It was to that bed that Poe’s thoughts now turned, as he smiled.

“Why? You volunteering?” he asked Finn, with a wry wink.

“To chase you? Oh, absolutely. Of course. Better hurry up and run before I tackle you right here and provoke you to do wicked things with me,” Finn responded, being deliberately outrageous (but not lying, either, not entirely). “Maybe I'll let you run all the way back to the house, just in case our amazing wife wants to help.”

Poe laughed brightly, and began to stretch, willing his cramped muscles to take him even further. “I think our COs might have something to say about us bugging out early… Oh, wait, that’s right, we _are_ our own COs. I love us.”

He tugged Finn into a kiss, hot and hungry. “So we’re racing home… Does that mean winner Tops, or loser Tops?”

Poe laughed again, the tip of his tongue sticking out.

Finn raised one eyebrow. “Winner gets to Bottom, clearly. He already worked hard, if he won.”

Poe outright cackled this time, pulling Finn into another kiss, wrapping arms and legs around him until he could trip Finn to the ground and sprint off in the direction of home.

“Cheater! You cheated! Aw kriff,” Finn called, the last to himself as he scrambled to his feet and tore off after Poe. He had the advantage of not yet having run as far as Poe had, and of generally being in better shape, but Poe was kriffing _fast_ over very short distances, and Finn had miscalculated the distance to home. He sprinted, and he was close enough to tackle Poe as they reached the house—but he wasn't close enough to win.

Still, the two of them went down in a heap of tangled limbs and surprised yelps, followed by high-pitched cackling as Finn instigated a tickle-war.

“I don't know if it counts if you cheat, Admirable Rear Admiral Dameron!” he laughed, poking at Poe’s ribs as they rolled on the grass near the front gate.

Poe laughed, rolling onto his back to tickle Finn the better, and though he tried to overturn Finn and get on top, he couldn’t coax anything more from his legs. “I won, I won! You’re not trying if you’re not cheating!”

A screech greeted them from the door, where Rey stood holding a flailing Sam.

“What he means is, you’re both just in time to help with dinner!” she called, laughing.

Finn looked up from where he sat over Poe’s hips, having pinned him victoriously during their wrestling/tickling match, and grinned widely.

“Sammy! Rey!” he called, scrambling to his feet and pulling Poe up after him. “ We can help with dinner. What're we having?”

Rey put an arm around him and hugged him, and Sam babbled happily, and it was like a balm to Finn’s short and fragile patience.

Poe leaned into the cuddle pile, feeling strength return to his limbs, or just enough to wrap them around his family. Sam got a handful of his lengthening hair and tugged, and he didn’t even mind.

“Can we make Poe make enchiladas?” Finn asked Rey in a loud stage whisper.

“That would be kind of redundant, since Kes already made some,” Rey laughed. She seemed a little distant and thoughtful, but no more than usual after a meeting with Luke. “But just the sauce. And I’m holding a baby, so.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it,” Poe said. “Just let me get in the fresher for five minutes, before my entire body turns into a giant knot. Sammy, can Papa please have his head back?”

Rey helped pry his fingers free, and smiled after Poe as he limped upstairs.

“Are you going to join him?” she asked Finn. He was still sweaty from running and dirty from rolling around on the ground while he was sweaty, so he nodded.

“Um—unless you want or need in the ‘fresher? I can entertain Sam,” he amended, and Rey smiled and waved him off.

“No, you two go ahead—I'll go after you're done, and have the refresher aaaall to myself,” she said. It was still quite a small refresher for three people, and Rey would always love water even more than she loved seeing her husbands naked. Finn nodded and went bounding off after Poe while Rey took Sam to go talk to Kes, watching the enchilada sauce and making sure it didn't burn or get too thick.

“Ah, I thought you'd come back for more,” Poe purred as Finn stepped into the fresher with him. “Can't get enough of me beating you, huh? You know, I thought about it, and to the victor belong the spoils sounds more fun to me…”

He bit his lip and hauled Finn inside to kiss him up against the wall, letting the water track over them. “Come on, buddy, you're so tight. Loosen up.”

Finn let Poe hold him against the wall, taking a long, deep breath and melting a little into Poe’s arms. “I'm _trying_ . It's just—there's just _so much_ and I want to fix it _right now_ but I know I can't.”

He sighed again, as Poe stared him down. “Yeah, but we’re home now.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I'm trying, I promise,” he added.

Poe got his arms under Finn’s elbows and hugged him tight, pressing their chests together, and he kissed him until Finn began to relax. “Now. Do you need to be in control tonight? Or do you need to be _not_ in control?”

 _You need to be actually washing up and get down here for supper_ , Rey thought up at them, and Poe and Finn laughed.

Finn smiled at the how easy this came to them, caring and being cared for in equal measure, and how sometimes they were simply one in the same. “I dunno. Not being in charge of anything or making any decisions sounds kinda nice.”

“Man, all this is really getting to you, huh, bud?” Poe sighed in sympathy, and kissed Finn’s brow.

“Maybe Rey will feel like bossing us both around,” Finn tried.

_Ha ha, you're very funny, now wash!_

“It's like she's using the Force or something. Uncanny,” he joked. Her distance was getting better, stretching to almost everywhere in the house if she wasn't exhausted.

“She’s already bossing us around,” Poe pointed out.

Finn reached for the soap and motioned for Poe to turn so he could wash his back and his hair. He couldn't resist kissing some of the new lines over Poe’s shoulders before he got soap on them, though.

“I want to learn your new tattoos,” he said thoughtfully, and kissed them again before massaging shampoo into Poe’s hair.

“Mm. Any time, Mr. Dameron,” Poe hummed, kicking up the heat a bit to relax his muscles. “I’ve got to learn yours, too.”

Finn hummed as the hot water seeped into his bones. He leaned on Poe once he'd rinsed his hair and let his hands wander down towards Poe’s ass.

“Mmmm, good. We will do that. Later,” he said. He resisted the urge to start thinking again, instead burying his face against Poe’s neck.

And then he screeched and there was a high-pitched cackle as the toilet flushed and the water became scalding hot.

“REY!” he howled as he bolted clear out of the refresher.

“Augh!” Poe cried, flattening himself against the wall and mostly laughing at Finn scrambling naked and dripping out of the fresher. The piping was old in this house, and running hot or cold water in one part always affected other parts of the house.

“She does remember that pain turns me on, right?” he laughed, giving Finn a hand back in. “Come on, sooner we eat, the sooner we can fool around.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yeah, I forgot we were supposed to warn when a smutty chapter was ahead.

Downstairs, wet and clean and both shirtless, Finn relieved Rey of her burden while Poe relieved his father of his, and Rey and Kes sat down to share have a beer.

“Oh, eugh, ew. Still hate it,” she said, passing it back to her father in law.

“Oh, twist my arm,” he laughed at the two beers in front of him. “Poe, you're going to burn your nipples off, son. Go put a shirt on, this isn't a frat house.”

Of course he said nothing about Finn’s shirtlessness.

“ _Daaad_ ,” Poe said, and laughed, and threw an apron on instead while he fried up quadduck and tortillas.

“You look perfectly ridiculous,” Finn commented as he bounced Sam up and down.

“I look amazing and you know it.”

Sam thought this was a brilliant game and laughed so hard he coughed suddenly and spit up.

“Oh, gross, kid,” Finn told the baby as Sam stuck his fingers uncertainly in his mouth, apparently deciding whether or not to get upset. Finn took the towel Rey tossed him and wiped Sam’s face, which decided things. He screeched unhappily and started crying enormous tears.

“Oh no, Sam, I know, it's the worst! Being clean is awful! All done!” Finn told him as he squirmed. “Goodness.”

He bounced him a little, not enough to make him laugh or spit up again, but enough to distract him. He looked over at Rey and caught her watching them with a soft smile. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think it was sad. Just in case it was, he swooped over with Sam and kissed her hair.

“Everything okay?” he asked her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine,” Rey said, still sounding distracted. “Just thinking about some things Luke and I talked about.”

“Okay, I’ll make plates for people!” Poe called, interrupting, if she had been about to say more. “Who’s hungry?”

“Me! I'm hungry! I've _been_ hungry!” Rey said, seeming finally to pay attention, and she received the first plate. Finn got the second, then Kes, and Poe joined them with his own plate.

They were mostly quiet while they ate, because they were all hungry and the enchiladas were delicious. But they finished all the faster for not talking, and soon enough they were all sitting back from empty plates, thoroughly sated.

Well, not _thoroughly_ , as was obvious by how Poe and Finn continued eyeing each other all through washing up, and all three of them left lingering touches on the others while they sat and told Kes about their days.

“What did you and Luke talk about?” Poe finally had the presence of mind to ask, as he was rocking Sam to sleep.

“About...more children,” she said, looking down, and the mood sobered immediately.

“What’s he got to say? Anyway, you’ve already got one!” Kes cried, two kinds of indignant.

If anyone besides Poe caught the accusatory tone that made it sound very much like Kes at least thought that _Luke Skywalker had a child_ , they didn’t mention it.

Rey smiled.

“No, I know. He just cautioned me that—well, I wouldn’t be able to train much, at a certain point, if I were pregnant. And if a battle happened—”

Kes took her hands. “Same issues Poe’s mom and I faced. And Shara was good, but she wasn’t one of the last Jedi, so it’s different for you. It’s entirely your decision. It will change your life. It may have consequences.”

Rey deflated with a huff. “I don’t know what I’m worried about, anyway. My birth control shot will last for a while longer. So it’s not even an issue now.”

Finn was the only one who sensed there was still something bothering her.

“Well. I’m going to bed,” Kes said, standing with a groan. “You kids get the lights and—don’t be too loud, huh?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, that was Sam!” Poe hissed, but his blush said otherwise. “I’ll go put the kid down.”

“‘Kay. ‘Night, Sammo,” Finn said to the now-comatose baby. He was making his cute sleeping-baby face, which made Finn’s heart melt, and he took Sammy’s hand to brush a kiss against his chubby little fingers. It apparently made Rey’s melt, too, because she touched his cheek gently and gave him a kiss on the forehead before Poe was allowed to take him to bed.

Finn stood and turned to Rey, holding out a hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet and lead her to their room.

“Hey. I love you, sunshine,” he said to her, and she sighed and leaned into his chest.

“I love you too. This is a lot harder than we thought it'd be,” she admitted, and he nodded. “I just...want it all to be over.”

“Yeah, but on the bright side, we are _really_ gonna fuck up Kylo Ren’s _entire life_ when we catch up with him. And then we can bring him home and let his mother _and_ his uncle yell at him for _ever_.”

Rey grinned, playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Remember to only swear when Sam isn’t in the room any more?”

When Finn laughed, she pushed him backwards onto the bed and kissed his still-spicy lips. “Relax now, all right? I’m going to let Poe ravish you.”

“ _Let_ me? I won our race fair and square,” Poe said from the door, grinning rakishly. “He should have run faster.”

“ _You_ could have played fair—instead of cheating!” Finn laughed, shifting comfortably on the bed, luxuriating in the size of it and the wonderful softness of the sheets. They didn't use the nice sheets on the Falcon or on base, so it had been a surprise to Finn that sheets even came so soft when he'd gone to change the sheets on their bed and found these in a cabinet.

“Are your enemies going to play fair?” Poe demanded.

“No, but I expect my husband to,” Finn said evenly.

“...Ouch.”

“You planning on joining us, or not?” Finn asked Poe, giving him a coy little smile.

Poe slid happily into bed, leaving his shorts behind on the floor, and straddling Finn on all fours to kiss him.

“Excuse you, where’s my kiss?” Rey teased, and giggled as Poe wrestled her back to the bed to kiss her, too.

“Mm,” she sighed, curling her arms around his neck. “See, I don’t see why you ever want to move past kissing.”

But Finn and Poe’s twin stares of _Well let me tell you_ only made her laugh. Finn wriggled over so he could press kisses all along her jaw and neck until she started giggling and batted at him when he'd very gently nipped her.

“Ridiculous, the both of you. But you're all mine,” she told them, and tugged at Finn until he repositioned himself so she could wrap her arms over both his and Poe’s necks. “My perfect husbands.”

“All yours, yes. But Finn’s the only one even close to perfect, and _today_ he was plotting the death of a colleague,” Poe tattled.

Rey clicked her tongue. “And what's all this about racing and winning and cheating? Is that what you were wrestling about earlier?”

This was going to be relevant to later activities…

“Look, he challenged me to a race home, and we agreed the winner gets to bottom. And _maybe_ I tripped him, but you can’t prove it wasn’t an accident, and anyway, when we get here, suddenly he changes the rules and now somehow the winner tops,” Poe explained, laughing as Finn’s face protested at every turn.

“He didn't just trip me, he clinging-ewok-tripped me! Totally not an accident,” Finn said, pausing to stick his tongue out at Poe. “And if you cheat, it's the loser’s prerogative to change the prize. _Everybody_ knows that.”

Rey blinked at him, smiled, and very sweetly reached to press her fingers to his mouth so he would stop talking. While it was only a request, he paused and raised his eyebrows at her.

“Sounds like I may have to settle this once and for all…”

She grinned deviously at the two of them.

“It's a difficult task, but I'll do my best,” she purred, and she reached to curl her fingers into Poe’s hair and tug softly. “I'm not sure I approve of cheating, Poe Dameron.”

Poe groaned, trying to not let his entire body to boneless as she gave his hair a warning tug. “You don't approve of cheating? What kind of scavenger are you?”

“I never claimed to be a role model. Do as I say, not as I do, or something,” Rey answered.

“You’re either going to be a wonderful mother, or—hhhnngh,” Poe grunted, as Rey scratched at his scalp and then pulled his hair again, just to watch him get that blissed-out look on his face.

At the same time, she started scratching up and down Finn’s arm, which basically reduced him to a puddle next to her. She looked over at him.

“Think he deserves just a little bit of punishment?” she asked.

He nodded, the look in his eyes going a little hungry.

“But he _did_ win…” Finn added, and Rey grinned.

“Oh, don't you worry, I have it all sorted out. You'll _both_ get what you want. Now—I think maybe you'd better finish removing those clothes, Finn. And I'll keep Poe busy,” she said, and Finn scrambled off the bed and to his feet.

“I mean, _always_ , my dear,” Poe said, as she wrenched his hair down to flatten him to the bed. “Augh! Hey!”

“Ready yet, Finn?”

Finn shed his clothes in a hurry and returned to the bed to see Rey holding Poe to the bed with a tight grip on his hair that had Poe wincing—but his dick was very clearly enjoying the rough treatment. Finn knelt softly on the mattress next to Rey and kissed her.

“For you two, I will always be ready,” he told her, which was so painfully cliché that he actually looked unimpressed.

Poe snorted, curling his hand around Finn’s half-hard cock, giving him a few teasing strokes and a smirk.

“Ah-ah, no touching,” Rey said, “not with your _hands._ ”

“You gonna make me?”

“I would love to,” Rey said, releasing Poe and reaching under the bed for a datapad and length of rope.

Poe and Finn both sat up, looking at each other and then her.

“Oh. She’s serious,” Poe whispered, as she opened up one of her bondage manuals.

“Are you not _tired_?” Finn hissed. “I was kinda hoping for a quickie and then…”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed.

But they weren’t going to tell her to _stop_ , either, not when she let Finn relax against the pillows, which was where he wanted to be. Not when she pressed Poe facefirst onto the mattress to try a new and intricate tie out on him—binding his wrists together at the small of his back and looping them around his throat so any attempts to struggle would choke him more than get him free—which was where _he_ wanted to be, too.

(At least she knew how to do one thing right, she thought to herself.)

Leaving Poe where he was, Rey flopped next to Finn with a sigh. “There, isn’t he pretty?”

“Pretty like a present,” Finn agreed. He was very content nestled among the pillows, even if he felt a little ridiculous just laying there with his cock half hard and watching Poe wriggle with a smug grin. He sat up and leaned forward enough to give Poe a long, heated kiss, nipping just a little, just enough to make Poe want more.

“H-hey, hey now,” Poe groaned, as Finn moved away. He did his best to crawl after him, but choked himself slightly. “Augh. This is, a—a good tie, my dear. If you like that sort of thing. Which I do.”

Rey grinned, proud, and curled up next to Finn.

"I wonder what she does to boys she _doesn't_ like, huh, Finn?" Poe teased, getting up onto his knees with some effort. 

"...You've seen Kylo's face, haven't you?" Rey delivered, deadpan. 

Finn laughed. "That's why we're glad you're on _our_ side." 

Flushed but enjoying himself, Poe knelt brazenly before them. “You going to let me suck his cock?”

“I told you you’d both get what you wanted,” she hummed, and kissed Finn’s cheek. “Is that what you want, love?”

Finn hummed and shifted so he could kiss Rey back.

“Mmmmm. Yes, please,” he told her before going back to kissing Poe. He was going to have to stop occupying Poe’s mouth shortly, but for the moment he wasn't too concerned.

“You may want to help lower me down, too,” Poe suggested with a laugh. “Not sure you want me nose-diving onto your—”

“Okay, okay,” Finn said, grabbing Poe by the shoulder and helping slow his descent until he was lying across both Rey and Finn’s laps. He set happily to work almost immediately, teasing Finn with long licks up the underside of his cock and going to his own happy place.

Rey laughed, and gave his thigh a smack as he tried rubbing himself against her lap. “Oh, no you don’t. If you’re going to come, it’s going to be from this.”

She slicked her fingers with lube and waited until Poe had his mouth full before teasing his entrance, so that his moan would carry through to Finn—making Finn gasp and knock his head back against the headboard in bliss.

“Oh yeah,” Finn sighed. “I think I’m going to like this setup.”

“You had better,” Rey teased, turning her head to kiss him, while working one finger inside Poe.

It made Poe hiss and twitch, which made Finn moan and grip at the sheets under his hands, but Poe was definitely loving this whether or not he could actually say it. It took a lot of abdominal work, and tightened up his glutes more than he wanted to if he was getting fingered in the ass, but he managed to bob his head up and down on Finn’s cock, working on swallowing him down, already feeling his own cock beginning to leak—totally untouched, as yet. He moaned his appreciation, throat convulsing a few times before he could swallow Finn entirely.

“Kriff, yes,” Finn sighed as Poe swallowed around his cock, and he didn’t realize how hard he was gripping their bedding until Rey laughed and touched the one between them with the hand that was currently unoccupied.

“Do something better with that,” she told him, and when he didn't immediately respond, she took his hand and rested it gingerly on the nape of Poe's neck. Finn smiled and immediately started playing with the short curls of Poe's hair, scratching and tugging. Rey gave him a devious smile and slid a second finger into Poe as she reached mentally for both of them, opening all three of them to each other, drawing them into that space that was entirely shared, and safe, and separate from every other worry or fear or anxiety. Finn sighed and settled there eagerly.

 _That's right, let it happen,_ Poe thought, coaching Finn as much as himself, and Finn did, as much as he could, except that he needed to move—and couldn't, not without rushing Poe. And he really didn't want this to be over, not so soon, not when he was just settling. He _did_ shift his legs just a little, and gave a pleased little whimper, the restless energy too much to be borne with complete stoicism.

Rey gave a delighted hum when Poe spread his legs for her, and before he knew it, there was some kind of toy between his legs, slicked up well, but a tight fit. Still, nothing captured his attention like the taste of Finn in the back of his throat, and both of them fucking him remained the greatest sensation Poe could ever experience, even if he was doing most of the work.

He only pulled off Finn's shaft to mouth over his balls, teasing and licking everything until Finn tugged his hair roughly and repositioned his mouth where he wanted it.

Rey laughed at Finn's impatience, and worked the toy slowly in and out of Poe until she found his prostate, carefully pinning him so he had no leverage to rub his cock against anything. It was harder for him to come this way, but he could, and he would. “You'll come just from Finn's cock in your throat, won't you?”

Poe groaned in answer, doing his damndest, struggling again to swallow Finn without losing his dinner, and managing only with Finn's help. With a groan of his own, Finn forced himself down Poe's throat and came, his hips giving a few weak thrusts. It nearly choked Poe, but the force of it sent him over the edge, too, spurting against the sheets as Rey held him down.

In the aftermath, once Finn released Poe and he spent a few minutes licking up anything he missed, Rey said, “Yeah, you had better clean up this mess, too.”

Finn had to look away and Poe’s cock threatened to get hard again as he submitted to cleaning up his own come off the sheets with his tongue, as happily as though she had mind-tricked him into it. “Good boy. Isn't he so good, Finn?”

“He's incredible. You're both incredible,” Finn said, still relaxed and sleepy and comfortable, not in a state to think quickly about anything. He did grin at Poe, though, who was still tied up. “You really are _very_ pretty like that.”

And to think how severely it had worried Finn that first time. It still worried him just a little…just enough to give him a small spike of adrenaline, but not enough to actively scare him, or give him the adrenaline rush Poe so enjoyed. It was thrilling, but not so thrilling it became upsetting.  

Poe smirked at him, eyes bright but grin dazed. “Pretty enough to be allowed up there with you two?”

“Hold on,” Rey said, tugging loose the ropes around his throat and his wrists to free him. “Now come here, handsome.”

Poe flopped with his arms wound around each of them, face buried in a pillow, and he sighed loudly and contentedly. “Wake me up when—later. Much later.”

Rey giggled, reaching across him to get her arms around Finn, and to kiss him softly.

“My stars and my skies,” Finn said reverently, nuzzling into Rey's kiss and snuggling closer under Poe’s arm. He rolled so he was facing Poe, and Rey on his other side, and blinked softly. Rey smiled at him before likewise snuggling down against Poe’s back. Finn heard her sigh in contentment.

“I love you,” she whispered, feeling so closely connected with them now.

“Love you more,” Finn answered as he clasped hands with her over Poe’s back.

“Most. Love you most,” Poe said, sounding already half asleep.

 _“I can’t leave them,” she said, glaring at Luke. “Not for that long. Not_ now _.”_

_Luke sighed. “I know it’s difficult, Rey. But we need to be back at the Temple, and there we can complete your training. Snoke is—”_

_“What’s wrong with the Temples here?”_

_“Not old enough. Not strong enough.” Luke shrugged. “We need to go back to Ahch-To, if we’re going to have any hope of stopping Snoke—”_

_“I’m trying to have a baby, Luke. Unless you can work out how they can ship me sperm samples and a turkey baster—”_

_Luke held up his hands. “Talk it over with Finn and Poe.”_

She didn’t need to talk it over with them. She was staying. She finally had the one thing she wanted all her life—a family—and she wasn’t going to leave that behind.

“That’s right,” she said, holding them both, feeling them fall asleep through the Force, with her and yet apart. “I love you the most.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Communicating with Luke took time, at these distances, with this level of security, and with the limited technology Luke took with him. So Rey used her weekly check-ins with Luke as an extra training day, meditating or practicing lightsaber forms in between his replies.

 _Found Snoke yet?_ she asked first, as usual, wishing she could send smiley faces like Poe did on their datapads. It was kind of a joke: Luke wasn’t looking for Snoke as much as he was trying to figure out what Snoke was up to, and trying to prevent that. In all seriousness, the sith or whatever was left of the First Order would probably want to go after Luke again, so they would find _him_.

That was why Wedge had gone with Luke, and Chewie, and a very fast and highly armored starship.

Rey waited about ten minutes for the reply, jumping rope straight through until the communicator dinged at her.

 _No luck_. _How’s your training going? And your meditations?_

Rey caught her breath while she tapped a message back to Luke.

_Poe and I have been training together. He has to pass a physical to fly again, so I offered to help. Meditating is fine. It’s easier when you’re not here telling me what to do._

More teasing. She sent it and did some pushups and Force jumps until Luke answered again.

 _I haven’t_ actually _told you what to do in a long time—you just knew I could. Don’t overdo the training and break your husband…_ he said, and she could imagine the soft, teasing smile he was probably giving her. The communicator dinged again before she could send a response. _Have you sensed anything?_

Rey shook her head, then remembered Luke couldn’t see her.

_Nothing to speak of. Obi-Wan visited, but I think only to check on me._

She didn’t mention what they’d spoken about, or that the whole conversation had happened at approximately 3am because she hadn’t been sleeping very well at least several nights a week. She also didn’t mention Kylo Ren showing up. She still wasn’t sure she actually believed that happened. _It concerns me that they’re being so quiet and we’re not sensing them. They’re up to something._

 _Of course they are_ , came the reply after some crunches. _Probably rallying. Getting new Generals and Captains in place. Worrying about the Republic, now. What I still don’t understand is why Kylo Ren wasn’t on that star destroyer._

Rey sighed and kept typing. _We really need to find out where the First Order is. I want to go see if Maz knows anything—with Finn and Poe. I'm fairly certain they can be spared. They hardly let Poe do anything, anyway, and if Finn names an acting Colonel in his absence, at least Lightbridge won't be left to his own devices running things._

Because that would be a disaster they couldn't afford. Lightbridge was asking for it, and didn't seem to be backing down one iota from harassing ex-stormtroopers at every possible opportunity.

There was a betting pool on who would lose it and punch him first. The safest bets were mostly on Sevens, who had become particularly fierce of late in their defense of the less confident ex-stormtroopers. These were added, of course, to the betting pools of who would punch Admiral Deso first, and whether the General was going to murder Senator Holdo in her sleep or while she was awake.

_Oh, that guy. Finn can handle him. :P_

Rey actually laughed at that. _I can’t believe you’re the first one to resort to emoticron use!_

She shook her head fondly as her holopad notified her she had an appointment with Dr. Kalonia in about ten minutes.

_I have to go—Doctor's appointment. I'll talk to you soon._

And since she didn't have time to wait for a response, she bounced to her feet and went to find the doctor in Medical.

“It’s a good thing you’re early,” Dr. Kalonia said with a smile as Rey bounded in. “I believe we have an Event to attend at the top of the hour.”

The way she said this, she did not sound enthused.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” Rey grinned.

“I can’t believe I let him talk me into this. That husband of yours is far too smooth a talker. Makes me almost think he might _occasionally_ be a good spy. Are you taking your vitamins and eating well?” Dr. Kalonia asked, running a medical scanner over her.

“Yes, and Kes keeps making all of us eat vegetables and salad and things,” she said, though any objection was entirely for show. Kes grew the vegetables in the garden, and anything he made with them was like all of his cooking, only slightly healthier.

“Oh, vegetables. What torture,” Dr. K said dryly, and then was quiet as she listened to Rey’s heart and her breathing. “Everything sounds good—not that I'm surprised.”

Rey grinned proudly. Not bad, for a girl who'd been malnourished and starving most of her life. Dr. K waved for her to hop off the exam table.

“It'll probably be a little longer before the birth control wears off completely, but we'll want to start planning for that fairly soon. Not today—today I have to go make sure your husband, or husbands, don't get themselves or anyone else into trouble…”

Rey laughed at this as she held the door for Kalonia. The doctor did indeed have a thankless job, often as not. Rey couldn't imagine there were many doctors who'd put up with the Resistance.

Because of course Rear Admiral Poe Bey Dameron couldn’t just take his physical aptitude test on a treadmill in medical like everyone else. No, he had to do it outside. He had to have Finn running against him to make sure he really ran his hardest and fastest. And, of course, since two officers and Resistance heroes were showing off, half the Base was going to turn out to watch, so he’d have an _audience_.

She had half a mind to tell him he failed just to see the look on his face.

Of course, it was nearly impossible to say no to Poe Dameron in person, especially with Finn Dameron standing next to him with those impossibly earnest eyes. “Ready for this, Doc?”

Dr. Kalonia eyed the sizeable crowd. There were people on _speeders_ ready to follow them. “You mapped it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Around this part of the compound, 5 kliks on the nose. A little further, actually,” Poe said.

“That is not ‘on the nose,’ then,” she laughed. “All right. Thirty minutes is the threshold.”

Poe nodded, grinning at Finn. “We’re gonna aim for twenty. Finn can do twenty.”

“Now wait, I said I _could_ do twenty, last time I had to do a fitness test in the First Order,” Finn said. “They didn't cook like Kes cooks!” he added when Deeks, who was standing nearby, looked at him and gave him a crooked grin. Rey just laughed and patted him on the shoulder, because he had only himself to blame for getting involved in this stunt.

“Hey, how come you're not running?” Deeks asked when he realized Rey was not wearing clothes to run in.

“Because everyone already knows who would win if I raced those two,” she answered smugly. Connix laughed and fist-bumped her while Poe and Finn scoffed openly.

“Yeah, _Finn_ would still win,” Poe said. “She _hates_ running.”

“Well!” Rey spluttered. “I’d still figure out a _way_ to win!”

“Maybe if we put a sandwich at the finish line,” Finn suggested with an absolutely straight face, and Rey slugged him in the arm enough to make him wince.

“Buddy,” Poe laughed, getting his arms around Rey and kissing her cheek so she wouldn’t kill them both. “We can’t make those jokes until she’s pregnant,” he added in a whisper.

“Very funny,” Rey said, elbowing Poe until he let her go. “Alright, let’s see what you can do.”

“Captains, Commander,” Dr. Kalonia addressed Jessika, Karé, and the newly-promoted to Poe’s old job Snap Wexley on speeders. “Going to make sure this is a nice clean race?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why does no one trust me?” Poe cried, honor impugned. “Anyway, this is just a race against the clock, not against each other.”

“That’s what you think,” Snap said, patting the vest pocket where he kept his betting book.

“Anyway, if anything’s going to give him an edge, it’ll be the cybernetic enhancements,” Dr. Ori said, eating popcorn, somehow, from somewhere, and setting up a lawn chair.

“This had better really only take twenty minutes,” the General said, stepping up with her arms crossed.

Poe actually beamed, and for the first time, was a little nervous. _Leia had come out to watch! This stupid little race!_

“Don’t worry, Poe, she’s probably here for Finn,” Rey teased, and found a patch of grass to sit in.

Finn glanced over at Leia for any indication of why she was here, but she was talking softly with Dr. Kalonia. He shrugged and nodded to Poe.

“Ready? Or did you want to stretch or warm up or something? Think of some way to keep me from kicking your butt?” he asked.

Poe rolled his eyes. “It’s only five kliks. I’ve still got you on short distances.”

He jumped around and shook out his arms and legs, but wasn’t too interested in stretching. “Come on, let’s go before the Mayor of Massassiton shows up to watch.”

“My money’s on the Colonel, Admiral, sorry,” Coni heckled from the sidelines. “We all know how bad you choke in the clutch.”

“We _have_ heard legendary things about the Colonel’s stamina,” one of the junior pilots—Paige Tico, way too good for her age—pointed out. “ _From_ the Admiral.”

“Hey now, do you know who this is? This is Poe Dameron. Guy who blew up Starkiller!” said her sister, Rose, a wide-eyed mechanic.

“Hope you didn’t kill anyone I know!” shouted an ex-stormtrooper whose name Poe didn’t know yet, and Poe laughed, taking it for the joke it was meant to be. The stormtroopers thought that was the funniest joke they had ever heard.

“Is this a party or a physical test?” Sevens asked as they joined them.

Even Timons had tagged along, and she smiled at the ex-stormtrooper joke.

“You know, people usually run faster if they're being chased,” Sevens commented. “With weapons.”

Poe raised an alarmed eyebrow, but this seemed to be a stormtrooper-joke, too, so…

“Oh no, no you don't, we don't need that much help. You just—stay there. Or go with Jess. But _no helping_ ,” Finn told them.

“But my aim is really good! Come on, I promise I won't shoot you. I'll just shoot _at_ you,” Sevens responded.

Dr. Kalonia looked at them, entirely unamused. “Let's _never_ do that, shall we?”

Sevens grinned at her, and several of the new stormtroopers chuckled.

And, since it was a pair of officers—beloved officers, but still _officers_ —getting made fun of, the Republicans laughed, too, and they even began to mingle. Poe didn’t hold his breath on them getting along, though that was mainly because he was saving it for the run.

Dr. Kalonia was holding her datapad up with a timer visible through the back of it.

“All right, everyone ready okay let’s go!” Poe said, and took off like a shot, to the amusement of all. He might have thought, if he didn’t know any better, that he saw money exchange hands.

Finn gave the others a pointed look: _Do you see what I put up with? Do you?_ But Poe was getting away from him, and 5 kliks was not so very far in which to catch up if he got too far ahead.

Still, Finn did _not_ take off like a shot, because at the pace he was going, Poe was going to wear himself out long before made all five kliks. If this was a race, Finn would really lay it on over the last klik or so. If they were just trying to beat 20 minutes, then hopefully Poe would realize Finn wasn’t catching up and slow his pace to match. Jess drifted up next to him as Snap shot ahead of them to catch up with Poe, and Finn glanced over at her.

“Where’s Sevens?” he asked her, and she nodded back toward the starting line.

“I think they’re still trying to get Dr. K to agree to let them shoot at you?” she answered innocently, though she was pretty sure Sevens had been joking. “Hey, they were kidding, right? Did they _actually_ shoot at you to make you go faster in the First Order?”

Finn laughed and shook his head. “Only sometimes. Never, if you were faster than the others. We called the guys in the back target practice.”

Jess looked horrified, which made him laugh so hard he nearly tripped.

“ _Finn_!” she yelped, “How am I supposed to know when you’re _joking_? You’re as bad as Sevens!”

“Trying to run away from your problems, eh?” Snap asked, clinging to Karé as she drove them alongside Poe.

With a huff, Poe slowed down, glancing behind him to see how far Finn was behind him. “What problems? My life is perfect.”

“Well, you’re _married_ , for one thing,” Snap said, with distaste.

“With a kid,” Karé said, wrinkling up her nose.

“Ugh, and he lives at home with his dad.”

“That one’s not so bad, actually, I think the world of Kes.”

“And he’s an Admiral. God, I hate being Commander, I can’t imagine…”

“There’s one good thing,” Poe huffed. “I can tell you people to shut up and you have to listen to me.”

“I mean I guess...but you’ve only been running for about 45 seconds, Admiral, are you sure…?”

“Ugh, fine,” Poe said, but the running was easy at this point. He just knew it wouldn’t be if he didn’t slow down enough to match Finn’s pace. If he could keep pace with Finn now, Poe knew he could outstrip him in the last hundred meters or so.

Finn reached for Poe’s hand when they caught up, just managing to snag his fingers. “You going to try beating me fair and square this time?” he asked jokingly.

“He better play fair,” Jess said, and Snap made an affronted noise.

“Jessika Pava! You are accusing _Rear Admiral Dameron_ of _cheating_!” he gasped.

“Well, we can’t run the whole way like this,” Poe said, glancing between them at their joined hands, and laughed as he let them go. “Thanks for doing this with me, buddy.”

“Don’t thank him yet. At this pace you’re looking at twenty-five minutes...which isn’t going to impress anyone, Rear Admiral Dameron!” Jess shouted, hitting her speeder. Snap was a fine Commander, but they all missed being in the air with _Poe_ , so they were invested.

“Ugh, Finn, trying to sabotage me?” Poe laughed, trying to pick up the pace.

“And keep my flyboy husband away from flying? Of course not—but I did warn you I hadn't run five kliks this fast in a long time! I think the speeders had better keep our pace,” Finn answered. He could tell that soon enough, his legs and lungs were going to start protesting the speed at which he was running, and then he was really going to lose the pace.

“Stars, I'm going to hate you tomorrow for this,” he laughed. “You remember after that boloball game? It's going to be like that,” he added.

“Poe was a shell of his former self after that boloball game,” Snap boomed.

“Yeah, but it got me laid,” Poe laughed, making Finn jog his arm, hard. “Oh, what are you mad about? You got laid, too!”

“Okay, what you two officers do on your own time after this is up to you, but this is a family event,” Jess ordered.

“Jess, the youngest person here is Deeks, and he's a legal adult…”

“What if we've been filming this for the holonet?”

“Then I guess it'll be really unfortunate for you because I'm sure that's treason or something,” Finn answered.

“Nah. Embarrassing a superior is ill-advised, but I don't think it's treason,” Jess said amiably.

“I could arrange for you to be on bathroom duty for the foreseeable future,” Finn said. “I'm _certain_ that would be allowed.”

The others were quiet for several moments.

“But you're not filming it, so it's a moot point. Anything else?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Jess chirruped, trying to salute and control the speeder bike with one hand, with limited success.

The pilots then took to hurling insults at them in an effort to make them run faster, but it didn’t do much: Poe was keeping pace with Finn, and Finn was stubbornly keeping an even pace. Poe’s instincts were always to sprint all-out, but he knew he wouldn’t make it if he didn’t hang back with Finn, and after what felt like an hour, he asked, “How long?”

“Nine minutes.”

“I’m going to die of _boredom_ ,” Poe laughed.

“I mean, I could go get Sevens. They said they wanted to shoot at you guys to make you run faster.”

“Pretty sure that’s not in the manual,” Poe laughed.

“Pretty sure Dr. Kalonia would shoot _all_ of us for that,” Finn added. “Or, well…I guess that would go against the physician’s code. So maybe she wouldn't _shoot_ us, but I'm sure she would be very unhappy. She said something about laxatives once.”

“Hey, you're halfway there! Ten more minutes! But you're not halfway there, so I think you guys better speed up a little. Honestly, Finnegan, you're so _slow_. Hop to it!” Karé said brightly, bouncing on the speeder and knocking it slightly off-balance, to Snap’s distress.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving you,” Poe said, laughing and starting to pump his arms and legs in stronger, longer strides. This boloball-shuffle wasn’t cutting it for him.

He was doing this because he wanted to _fly_ , damn it.

“You gonna keep up?” Poe called over his shoulder, hearing engines rev behind him as Snap and Karé pulled up behind him.

“Technically you're the only one here trying to pass a test, and the view from here is pretty great,” Finn called ahead.

“Really Finn?” Jess asked, and he grinned over at her.

“What? He has a very nice ass. It’s so good it's in his job title,” he responded.

“You're never going to let go of that, are you?”

“Not planning on it, no,” Finn said, and Jess muttered something about _boys_ as she rolled her eyes. “Aw come on, you like nice butts.”

“If you're referring to Sevens, of course I do. But I think that's enough of objectifying our significant others’ fantastic asses, unless you plan on having yours kicked. Better get moving if you're seriously trying to beat him,” she said, and actually zipped ahead, leaving Finn to either catch up or be left behind.

“I hate you!” Finn called to her as he sprinted to catch them.

“Poe, your pilot is tormenting me!” he added once he caught them, whining very blatantly.

“Nice of you to drop by,” Poe said, but he was definitely flagging, hitting that halfway-hump. Any time his second wind wanted to kick in would be great… “Jess, be nice to him, that’s an order.”

“I don’t have to listen to you. I’ll just get in a starship and fly away where you’re not allowed to go after me,” Jess teased, but there came a chorus of loud _Oooh_ s that said maybe that was a bit far, even for pilots.

“Tell me you brought some ice for that burn,” Poe begged, really huffing now. But something about the teasing or the mention of flying (or, because it was Poe, maybe the mere mention of _not_ being allowed to do something) gave him a new strength, and he stopped dragging his feet and started breathing more evenly, pulling ahead of Finn yet again.

“Oop! There he goes!” Snap cried jubilantly.

“Gods dammit, where is he _getting_ this? Did he eat every energy ration he could find or something? Is Rey hiding in the bushes and making him lighter?” Finn panted in mild distress. His legs were screaming at him to slow down, his strides becoming short and sloppy, but he took as deep a breath as he could and forced his legs to stretch into longer strides, to hopefully forestall some of the knots he could already guess were going to happen. He forced his ragged breaths even, though had no luck with slower, and rolled his shoulders back to give himself adequate room to breathe. He stopped staring at the ground and watched the middle distance, where there would be horizon if not for all the trees. And after all of that, he did manage to catch up with Poe, though this sprint felt as though it might be very short-lived indeed.

“I'm dying, how are you not dying,” he gasped to his husband.

“Oh, buddy,” Poe huffed, “I’ve _been_ dying. Finally feeling alive.”

Poe could see the finish line, and hear the crowd up ahead, and he put on more speed from his last reserves, and Finn matched him, somehow. The shouts from the drivers behind them faded as his world narrowed. One foot in front of the other, lengthening his strides, an all-out run now, then a sprint. He was going to fly again. He was going to fly again. He was going to fly again.

And then they were past that arbitrary finish line, Finn just a step behind him, and Dr. Kalonia stopped her timer, and even she was caught up in the moment, cheering before she remembered she was meant to be annoyed at this.

Rey cheered and rushed them, which was good because both of them nearly fell over. “You did it! You’re under time! Way under time!”

“That’s actually a personal best for you, Dameron. Twenty-one-oh-seven.”

Poe laughed, even though he felt like he wanted to throw up. He couldn’t even do that in his _Academy_ days, fresh out of basic.

Finn laughed giddily as Snap, Karé, and Jess shut off the speeders and joined them, but was about ready to either sit down or fall down. Dr. Kalonia joined them and handed Poe the holopad to sign under her name that he was the one who has completed the physical, and not some other random person.

“Go walk until you've cooled down,” she told them both, and though reluctant, they both started trudging a circle around the area. Rey walked with them, positively buoyant in comparison.

“Ouch, ouch, I’m going to die,” Poe said.

“When can we go flying, Poe?” Rey asked. “You still owe _me_ a date in an X-Wing. Do you think they’ll put you in a T-85? What will you name it?”

Poe huffed, resting his hands on his head to help him breathe. “Here’s my secret. They’re all _Black One_. I was on my, like, second X-Wing with the Resistance.”

Rey and Finn gaped, but BB-8, rolling alongside them, confirmed this. [I am the only BB-8, though!]

“That _you_ know of,” Poe teased. “I could have downloaded your memory into—”

The look of utter horror that crossed the droid’s featureless features made Poe burst into laughter. “No! No, I’m sorry, Bee, I’m sorry. That was a joke. I was just joking. That was a mean joke, I’m sorry. You’re the only one for me, buddy, always. I swear.”

BB-8 considered this, then continued toodling along. [It’s fine, you have my permission to download my programming and memory into another astromech if you ever need to. I know you’d crash and burn without me.]

Poe chuckled. “That’s right, buddy. I’d be lost without you.”

“Technically, I'm pretty sure we all would be,” Finn pointed out.

Rey took one hand from each of her boys and swung them as they walked. They walked for several more minutes until Finn and Poe were both breathing normally, and then they returned to their friends.

The crowd had mostly thinned out, but Connix, Deeks, and Paige were having a conversation that seemed to involve an awful lot of arm-waving and pantomiming on Deeks’ part, and Snap, Jess, Karé, and Sevens had stayed around.

“I bet if you'd let me help you'd have cut that minute off,” Sevens said, grinning.

“Thanks, but, ah, I’m just glad I haven’t puked in front of everybody yet,” Poe said.

“So, Admiral, you going to go on a joyride with us now you’re legal again?” Jess asked.

“ _No_ , we’re going to do this by the book,” Poe laughed. “I’m not technically legal until I kick all your asses in a sim—you’re all free later, right? Ah, well, I order you to be—and then we sign some paperwork tomorrow and it goes in front of a board. I should be skybound in twenty-four hours.”

It hit Poe, then, with a giddy butterflies-in-the-stomach lurch, that he was going to be in a starfighter again, soon. As close to flying-with-wings as he could get. As close to his mom as he could get. It nearly choked him with how badly he suddenly wanted it. “Okay, I’ll hit the showers. Pass the order. We have a Sim Fight before dinner. Anyone who thinks they can take on the top dog, 1600 hours, sim room.”

Snap laughed. “So we don’t _have_ to go to this, or…?”

The laughing gaggle of pilots got ahead of them, and Rey saw—or thought she saw—a face down a corridor. One that looked out of place, only she couldn’t tell why. And there was a loud rush like the Force in her ears, and she stopped.

Finn paused, too. “You coming?”

“I’ll catch up with you after your fresher,” she said, motioning him ahead and waiting until she was alone before ducking down the empty hallway.

Kylo Ren stood there, looking as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“ _You_ ,” Rey snarled, first to recover from her surprise, and she threw lot a hand to Force-hold Ren before he could run—or attack her. He took a step back as if to dodge and raised his hand in return.

But nothing wound around her to halt her movement, and Ren withdrew his hand to give it a suspicious look. They both looked up at each other and glared.

“What fresh hell,” Rey snapped at him.

“I...don’t understand,” Kylo Ren said, sounding oddly calm about this—maybe bemused. “Can you see where I am? I can see you, but not your surroundings. Not as though we don’t know exactly where you are…”

“No I can't see where you are. Who's doing this? It certainly isn't me,” Rey responded. And how were they doing it? Was the Force just going haywire?

Kylo Ren smiled. “Maybe we’re just connected, you and I, more than you think.”

“Maybe you're full of bantha shit,” Rey replied, “There is _no_ connection between us, unless you count ‘I’d just as soon chop your arm off or sever your spine’ as a _connection_.”

She wished she could wipe that smug look off his face with the back of her hand.

But now she could tell, or was forced to tell, since they were interacting while unable to kill each other, that this actually _hurt his feelings_.

Charming. He can dish it but can't take it. But Kylo Ren rallied, and shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said, and then there was a _woosh_ in the Force that made her ears pop, and he was gone.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Rey snarled at the thin air, but the Force was not forthcoming with any answers.

With a growl of frustration, she turned on her heel and stomped off to catch up with Finn and the others.


	6. Chapter 6

One of the perks of leading the Stormtrooper Family Reunification Search Project was being the first person to test the brand new search-and-match algorithms. Timons had provided it everything she could—her age, a genetic sample, a quadrant, her photo, even her favorite food and the few allergies she'd discovered since joining the Resistance. The algorithm took all of it and started searching, running day and night as it combed through every database it could access. 

Since the Republic had provided them access to its own databases, the search was extensive and exhaustive but Timons fully expected to come up with nothing in spite of all that. She had been taken so very young, almost as small as Finn had been, perhaps smaller. And she had no dreams to guide her, no hints of memory whatsoever.

But one morning she awoke to a pulsing light on her holopad and a message stating that the search was done running. 

It wasn't until she was able to access the main workstation that interfaced with the algorithm and its many details that she was finally able to determine if it had found anything. She opened the completed search.

_ Sample: Timons _

_ Search: Completed _

_ Matches: 3 _

Timons caught her breath and sat bolt upright away from the station, almost as if it'd bitten her. Then she leaned closer again.

_ View matches? _

And on the station’s touchscreen, the  _ View matches?  _ button’s border faded in and out in serene silvery blue, waiting for her input. She stood, paced several feet away, went back to the workstation, sat, and then stood again.

She needed to find someone to remind her to breathe, or she was going to hyperventilate, so she headed off to find Kaydel, hopefully, or Rey or even Finn—someone.

…

“Ms. Dameron,” Dr. Kalonia said firmly, with no little exasperation. “Rey. I  _ just  _ gave you your check up. I can guarantee you you will be in exactly the same condition today as I declared you yesterday.” 

“Well, I know, but I have some questions—”

“Rey,  _ please _ . I do have other patients. Are they life-threatening?”

“Well, no. I guess they can wait…” 

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Dr. Kalonia said, making a mental note to share some of her duties with Dr. Carc…

Rey found herself alone in the hall outside medical, deflating slightly. But as she turned to go, she nearly ran into a borderline frantic Timons, who stumbled to a stop and gave her a wide-eyed look for a moment before straightening.

“Rey! I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention…” she said, still clearly distracted. Then she seemed to refocus.

“Um. Are you busy? It's not an emergency, or anything, but you know the search-and-match program, and how we were using me to test it?” she asked in a veritable torrent of speech compared to her usual soft-spokenness. “Well it found something. Three somethings. Only I'm afraid to check it by myself and—could you check it with me?”

Rey tried a few times to speak, but Timons had surprised her into silence. She finally managed it on the third try.

“Yes!” she finally managed, laughing in excitement. “Yes, absolutely! That’s wonderful news! Let’s see what comes of it!” 

The two women rushed back to the comm center, where Timons’ equipment had been set up. “I’m so glad you got a hit, if nothing else. It’s amazing what you’ve rigged up. I can’t wait for more stormtroopers to get to try it.” 

“Me, neither.” That would be much less stressful, anyway. Timons took a seat in the chair and stared at the blinking button.

_ View matches? _

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she stabbed a finger at the screen. It took her a second try to actually touch the correct portion of the screen, but the station gave a pleasant chirp.

“Is it good or bad?” she asked Rey, eyes still shut.

Rey peered through the lines of code, taking more than a few minutes to suss it out. Someone needed to program the output so normal people could make sense of it... 

“Oh! It looks like—a family! It’s just names. Can we look them up?” Rey now realized why this was hard. “Do you think these are your parents? Is this you?” 

Timons peered cautiously at the screen and the three names there. 

All three names read DECEASED, in sad red letters. Sorath and Ayessa Kenten, and their child Zimona. The age was correct. 

Zimona was  _ her  _ name. 

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t particularly  _ feel  _ like a Zimona. 

“Well, we can’t stop there! Holonet it! We’re in the Comm room, can’t we look up to see if they have any—if you have any living relations? This is a good start!” 

Rey, whose ‘living relations’ included only the blue ghost of her grandfather that she wasn’t  _ entirely  _ sure was real, was excited by this. 

Timons wasn’t so sure. 

“I don't know. Maybe there are pictures somewhere?” Timons asked and flicked through screens and windows until she got more information. 

New screens appeared from the holoprojector, branching out to link a series of names together—a grandmother and grandfather, also deceased—but three new names glowed in a hopeful blue. Her mother had a sister, Alaani, and she was married to a woman, Nahale, and the latest census records of the planet Korriban showed they had a daughter, as well. 

Right there, right on the screen, was proof she wasn't entirely alone _.  _ The woman was a maternal aunt, the other, aunt by marriage, and the baby, her cousin.

“That's  _ my family _ ,” she said suddenly, the words tasting strange and wonderful as she said them, and she promptly burst into crying laughter.

“Let’s get a picture, Timons! Can we pull up a picture?” Rey laughed, and shrieked when images appeared—a speeder license for the maternal aunt— “Oh, she looks just like you, Time! Or—Timons? Zimona?”

Timons wrinkled her nose at the name, but was still staring at the picture of her aunt.

“I still feel like Timons…And I'm not who Zimona would have been anyway. I'll keep my name,” she told Rey. She wondered if she'd looked like her mother, too, if all the women in this part of her family strongly resembled one another. Did this mean her family would recognize her when they saw her?

“What about her wife? Or their kid—Time, you have a baby cousin! Can you believe that?” Rey said, still elated, and her unreserved joy was contagious. 

Timons smiled and went back to the search, this time getting back her aunt’s wife, who was tall and broad and looked like she could lift an X-Wing with very little trouble. She had a bright, welcoming smile in the picture Timons found.

“Yeah. It’s—wonderful,” Timons said, still having some difficulty processing this. “Ah. Oh. This goes to Colonel Finn, now, and Colonel Kix. And the General. She—maybe she would—or—do you think she would...contact them?” 

Timons couldn’t just comm them out of the blue, if she could even remotely get up the courage. Also it looked like they lived on a rim planet off of the trade routes, so they might only be able to receive a written communication. 

“Would the General  _ what _ ?” Leia asked, appearing as though she knew exactly what was going on. 

“At ease,” she added to the techs working quietly in other parts of the Communications Room. 

Rey and Timons both jumped and turned to Leia. For a moment neither of them spoke, and then both tried to speak at once—though Rey stopped quickly and looked over at Timons when she realized the ex-stormtrooper was answering.

“Write a letter. To my aunts. I have  _ aunts _ . And a cousin,” she said. 

“Excellent,” Leia said, and sat down at an empty terminal. She didn’t ordinarily write her own communications, but today she made an exception. “I’ll have to run this through Colonels Kix and Dameron.” 

Like they would ask her to change any part of any communication. 

“Let’s get started.” 

_ Dear Alaani and Nahale Kearric, _

_ You do not know me, but I am Leia Organa, General of the Resistance and New Republic Joint Armed Forces, co-chair of the Committee on Stormtrooper Reintegration Project, and Princess of Alderaan. I use my old title only to tell you that I know loss, as you do.  _

_ About twenty years ago, as we understand it, you lost a sister and her family to what we now suspect were the ravages of the First Order, whether carried out by them or on their behalf. We understand that a young niece was among those lost. _

_ According to our records, your niece, Zimona Kenten, was kidnapped by the First Order and trained to serve the First Order war machine. Having been liberated, she now wishes to reunite with her family.  _

The rest of the letter was very technical, about how to get ahold of them, and how they would verify actual relation. “How’s that look?”

Timons read the letter several times and then nodded. “It’s perfect. Should we send a picture with it? I know what they look like, after all. Is that allowed?” 

Maybe if they were unsure, even with the General’s letter, that this was real, they would see the resemblance to her mother and know this wasn’t someone’s idea of a joke.

“I want to wait until we’ve gotten some word back from them first,” Leia said. “To protect you and your privacy. But yes, we’ll exchange DNA samples and photos before you meet. Right now, I want you to run this by Finn and Kix, and then send off the message.” 

Leia turned in the chair. “Well done, Ensign. I’m very proud of you for getting your system to work, and I’m very happy for you. I hope this works out. I’d start running the diagnostics for the other former stormtroopers in your cohort right away.”

Timons blinked in surprise and felt her face turning red as she blushed, unsure what to do with such a compliment from a superior officer—and not just any superior officer, but the _ most _ superior officer in her chain of command. None of her commanding officers had  _ ever  _ been proud of her.

“ _ Thank you _ ,” she told the General, as earnest as she’d ever been, “I’ll collect a list right away of the ones who want to be run through the system, and start running them as soon as I’ve talked to the Colonels.” 

She felt giddy, almost, happier than she’d been in a long time.  _ It worked.  _ Her system worked,  _ and  _ it had found her surviving family,  _ and  _ she might get to meet them.

“And, on that note, you should probably take a break. Rey, make sure she gets breakfast,” Leia said, standing abruptly. 

A large part of Rey was very happy for Timons—how could she not be? She was glad the system worked, and doubly glad it worked for her. But…

It would never work for Rey. Her family, she already knew, had been killed by Kylo Ren, while trying to hide her. So while mostly she was very happy, Rey was also... _ angry _ . Every family member that  _ wasn’t  _ there was his fault—or his fault by association, she didn’t much care—every  stormtrooper who grew up not knowing their parents was his fault, and she hated him, hated Snoke, wanted to—

“Rey?” 

Behind Leia stood Kylo Ren, just watching her, making her heart skip a beat in a brief flash of panic. Timons gave no indication that she saw him, however, so that confirmed that either Rey was the only one who could see him or that she was hallucinating him.

Either way, she ignored him.

“Sorry. Yes, ma’am!” Rey chirped, her mind cleared of any dark musings—she was getting good at that. Timons needed to think about something else now.  _ She  _ needed to think about something else. “Come on, Time. Then we can go tell Finn the good news!” 

…

Poe was practically skipping when he walked into the meeting room, the necessary forms pulled up on his datapad tucked under one elbow, his uniform crisp and smart (and fitting like it should now, too). 

The General wasn’t there, which was a bit odd, but Statura was there, a familiar face to one side of First Senator Holdo—the Commander in Chief, of course, at his level that would make sense—while Admiral Deso was on her other side. 

Poe snapped to attention to remind them he still could, and then flashed his signature smile at them. “First Senator Holdo. Admirals. Thank you for seeing me. I have the paperwork all ready here, so I don’t need to take up too much of your time…” 

“At ease, Admiral. We’ll need to review your paperwork, you understand, and we have some questions we'll need you to answer,” Deso said a little stiffly, holding out his hand for the datapad. Down the table, Statura shifted minutely, either in discomfort at Deso’s ability to make everything awkward or annoyance at the insistence on formality.

“While we review your file, Admiral Dameron, the request to fly starfighters is…unusual for an Admiral. To be perfectly honest with you, we do not typically place Admirals in starfighters without excellent justification—it has never been done before,” Holdo told him. The implication was clear: she had no intention of approving this without an extraordinarily good reason—or possibly at all.

“Uhh,” Poe stammered, but he had been prepared for this, so he pulled himself together. “My record speaks for itself, First Senator. The destruction of Starkiller Base—I can name a handful of pilots who could do that. And two of them are dead.” 

If this last was a dig at Deso, Poe didn’t look to see if it had found its mark. 

“What the Senator means is,” Deso said hastily, “is not that you  _ couldn’t  _ fly a starfighter. I don’t think whether or not you are allowed to is being discussed here. But an Admiral coordinates attacks from a broader perspective, as you will find. Not just starfighters are under his command, but battle cruisers, warships—and now you do have them.”

“I’m aware of the vessels under my command, Admiral,” Poe said, testily. 

“Admiral Dameron,” Statura said, in a voice that begged to be familiar, and he leaned his elbows on the table. “We know— _ I know _ that no one in our entire fleet can out-pilot you. But you’re too great of an asset to have on the front lines, anymore. Starfighter piloting, undercover work—it’s all too dangerous.”

“I would never ask any of my pilots to risk their lives if I wasn’t prepared to risk mine,” Poe said levelly, now staring at a point above all three of their heads. “And my undercover work got us the map to Luke Skywalker.”

“But you were captured in the attempt. Think of your  _ family _ , Poe.” 

“They know the risks. We all do,” Poe said, faltering. 

“Does your son?” First Senator Holdo asked, and Poe might have softened at that had she not added, as though she were trying to make a joke out of it: “I wasn’t aware he was speaking full sentences yet.” 

Poe glowered, off-put by her simultaneous gravity and levity.

“The fact of the matter is, Admiral Dameron, that your family is crucial to winning this war,” she continued, at once too-caring and oddly cold. “I know you love them, and you’re aware how special they are. Your husband is a fine man, I understand it, but he owes us nothing. The same could be said of your wife. The only thing  _ really  _ tying them to the Republic is you.” 

Poe blinked. Was she insinuating…?

What the hell, he was among equals. He could start acting like it. “Are you pimping me out?” 

“Poe,” Statura said, having the decency to be offended by the idea and the phrase. 

“I haven’t appreciated a damn thing any of you have said,” Poe charged ahead, since it seemed like he wasn’t going to get the approval he wanted by playing nice. “If you think for a second that either of them are in this for anything but the  _ highest good _ that is way bigger than me, you, or the Republic, then you don’t know Finn and Rey. And if you think I’m going to order fighter pilots into a situation where the average lifespan drops down to  _ minutes _ while I’m sitting pretty in a battle cruiser, sirs, then you don’t know  _ me _ .” 

“Poe—Admiral Dameron. I—we—are aware this is not the role you would choose, and you know I wouldn't ask it lightly,” Statura said, trying to avoid a confrontation. 

“I'm retiring, Poe,” Statura went on quickly, and let that sink in for several moments. “I couldn't choose a better successor.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” Poe said, startled, feeling like he was being abandoned with these vulture droids. “Admiral—you can’t…”

Now that he thought about it, where was General Organa and why wasn’t she in this meeting?

“Admiral Dameron, you know I’m not a military man. I’m a teacher. They’ve reopened my position at the Academy. This job  _ should  _ by all rights be yours. Now that there are enough hands, as it were, in this war, you don’t need me.”

Poe wanted to argue that point, and would argue, but this meeting wasn’t about Statura. 

“Isn’t there some politician who wants this job?” Poe began, trying to keep it together. “Sirs, with all due respect, I’m  _ not  _ upper brass material. I had talked to Admiral Statura and General Organa about this before—where is she, by the way?”

“We thought it would be a conflict of interest,” Holdo said. “We know how she  _ adores  _ you.” 

Poe was still glaring. 

“Admiral Dameron, while we find no reason not to clear you for flight duty, we hereby assign you to the  _ Vapor _ . Your objections will be duly noted; however, we all must do what is best for the New Republic,” Deso said, before the situation could devolve further—especially since Holdo could not, apparently, contain herself.

Poe snapped to attention, since all he was to them was a toy soldier, Admiral or no. “Sir.” 

“That’s more like it,” Holdo all but purred. “And, listen, Admiral, we know how you spacejockeys are, we wouldn’t dare forbid you from flying! Take a fighter out this afternoon, if you like! Rub elbows with your men, et cetera. Whatever you need to be able to  _ do your job. _ ” 

Where she had started off almost obnoxiously bubbly, the First Senator ended on a rather cold note. Do your job. 

Poe saluted, turned, and was gone. He left the datapad on the desk. He didn’t even care enough to watch them sign it.

_ Do your job _ . 

_ The fucking nerve! _ Poe spluttered, heading straight for the gym and wrapping his knuckles to log some time with a practice dummy.

_ I  _ have  _ been doing my job,  _ and all your jobs _ , for years before you deigned to intervene. And now you want to tell me what I can and can’t do?  _

A good part of him knew he was being childish. He maybe had a few good years left in him as a fighter pilot before his reflexes slowed just enough to make him a liability. Obviously, then, he’d be glad to retire to Admiralty—to politics and paperwork and making sure as few of his pilots who engaged the enemy were killed, especially since then he wouldn’t be  _ there with them _ to make sure. 

But, damn it, he was in better shape than he had ever been in his life. His reflexes were  _ quicker _ , especially with the new arm. His sim scores had never been so high. 

Here was a dangerous thought: maybe they just didn’t know. 

Maybe he could still prove it to them. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in posting, folks! We had to rewrite this chapter from scratch, but hopefully you all like it better as a result! Also MayGlenn is doing her PhD comprehensive exams, so for the next few months, updates might be delayed. We appreciate your patience, and your continued interest and support! <3

If Finn had hoped that at least in the rank and file there would be a general camaraderie, with none of the ridiculous politics that seemed currently to be pervading the upper ranks of whatever the Resistance had become, his hopes were partially in vain.

While in general things seemed to be going well, some of the Resistance fighters and stormtroopers were being treated more like cleaning staff or civilians than fellow soldiers by the New Republicans who had come in. In return, they resented the Republic soldiers, and they were not being picky about which ones they resented. Some of them seemed, in fact, to resent the Republic as a whole, leading to a build-up of tension in the affected units that threatened to erupt and end in disgrace for everyone involved—Republic and Resistance alike.

Finn wondered how in the world he hadn't heard about this immediately, instead of weeks after it had begun causing problems.

Today he was helping Torch with his unit. The ex-stormtroopers once under his command were growing fractious in response to both actual and perceived bad treatment from some new Republic recruits, and the Resistance troops were siding with their trooper friends. It was affecting both morale and unit function, and Finn was going to teach all of them a valuable lesson about in-fighting and old prejudices. And if his technique borrowed heavily from the Kes “dump them in the wilderness with nothing so they have to work it out” Dameron school of training, well, the experience was not meant to be  _ fun _ .

Torch had cackled when Finn had laid out his plan for a training mission in the jungle, that was only partially borrowed on the advice of his father-in-law. 

“Don’t laugh too hard,” Finn said. “You and I are going, too.” 

Torch gaped. “...You sure you’re not trying to incite a mutiny?” 

Finn shrugged a shoulder and smiled crookedly. “Well, if they're united in hating me, at least they're united. Right?” 

“Either that or we’ll wear them down so far they can't be bothered to fight with each other. If we're lucky, they'll learn something from the experience…”

…

Finn and Torch woke the recruits—the ones they decided who, on both sides, were causing the most trouble or had most reason to be displeased—but they would do as many of these as they needed to until they’d gone through everyone—up at dawn. They gave them enough time to dress and grab their go-kits before herding them onto a transport, where Paige Tico waited for them, blowing bubbles with bright pink chewing gum. Finn would have had Poe take them, except he had his big fit-for-duty meeting today, and he couldn’t ask Rey to fly them, because she was on a health kick that involved getting exactly enough sleep, which getting up before dawn didn’t agree with.

“Why do you look so cheerful?” one of the Resistance cadets who knew her asked. 

She grinned, overly-cheerful. “Dropping rookies in the middle of the jungle is like,  _ way  _ more fun than dropping bombs. Also, caf.”

She pointed to her mug, pulled her gum out, and stuck it on the rim while she took a long sip. 

The recruits glared at her.

“All right, we’ve got caf for you once we’re in the air,” Torch said, calling them to attention, and handing out blue shirts to every other person. Finn handed out red shirts. 

“Gonna have us a little capture the flag game, Colonel?” a Republican asked, thinking they were being very funny. 

“I think it’s time to get us in the air, Lieutenant,” Finn told Tico, who made her way down to the cockpit. She was just about to pull up the gangplank when footsteps tottered up them, and a technician appeared.

When everyone spotted her, she froze, clutching a large box close to her. 

“Rose!” Paige cried. “What are you doing here?” 

“I'm coming with you! I asked the General if I could get some, ah, um, field experience! And she said she didn't know why I'd want to get it  _ this  _ way but she didn't say  _ no, _ ” Rose spluttered, trying to salute Finn while still holding the box. “That is, if it’s okay with you, um, Colonel, sir, I—I mean I—”

“Rose,” Finn said. “Breathe.” 

Rose nodded, holding her box with both hands now, and took a breath. “Okay.” 

“We could use a tech,” Finn told her warmly. “So welcome aboard.” 

“Really?!” Rose cried, scurried forward to join the group. 

One of the ex-stormtroopers finally pointed at her box.

“Why'd you bring a box?” she asked. 

“What box? This box? This is nothing! Not an important box!” Rose exclaimed, just as the box made a small squeaking noise, and Finn smiled, with a guess of his own.

“Okay, look. A family of moss-hoppers may have moved into one of the control rooms, and I may have told Staff Sergeant Fostoria that I would get rid of them so she wouldn’t have them killed,” Rose responded, now taking on a slightly fierce tone. 

“Moss-hoppers? Those little shits bite!” one of the Republic soldiers pointed out. 

“Aren’t they venomous?” asked a Resistance soldier.

“I don’t want to be on a ship with those things!” Torch whined.

Rose drew herself up to her full height, gripping the box protectively.

“They're more scared of you than you are of them. The poor things were just trying to live their lives in the wrong place,” she told Torch, and then she turned to the Republic soldier. “And of  _ course _ they bite. You would bite too, if you were tiny and everything was always trying to catch you and kill you!”

Finn heard Paige snort softly in the cockpit and turned to see her watching her sister get tough with the soldiers with a fond smile—Rose maybe came up to the man's collarbone, but it didn't seem to bother her.

“Okay, Rosie, why don’t you bring the little monsters up here and let the folks in the back play soldier, huh?” Paige called, holding out an arm, into which Rose shuffled sheepishly. 

“Don’t call me Rosie in front of everyone,” she muttered. 

Paige barely bit down a laugh, and she nodded before her voice pinged over the ship’s comm system. “All right, folks, let’s buckle up. I’m only a mere bomber pilot, after all, so I might do something  _ crazy  _ with these twitchy controls!”

“Are all pilots this scary?” Torch muttered to Finn as they strapped in. 

“Have you  _ met  _ my spouses?” Finn responded. He tightened the harness down over his chest and reached up to tap the comm system.

“Try not to break us  _ before _ you drop us off, huh, Tico?” he joked, garnering a few looks of alarm from those nearest him, and a laugh from Torch.

“Oh, alright, I guess if I don't have a  _ choice _ … Whatever you say, Colonel Dameron,” Paige answered, and Finn heard what sounded suspiciously like Rose saying something scolding in the background.

_ Pilots. _

“You're the biggest softie in the entire Republic, you know that, sissy?” Paige asked as she prepped for takeoff. “Buckle your harness.”

“Geez, Paige, I'm not a kid,” Rose protested petulantly. “And I'm not a softie! You try murdering these cute little balls of floof! It's not their fault we took over their habitat!”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Paige said. 

“I'm ready for the field. I could be. I'm just too good a mechanic.”

“Yep, got it,” Paige agreed noncommittally.

In the back of the transport, Finn turned to Torch while the troops settled in to chattering (or sleeping, since many of them were apparently not morning people).

“Who usually starts it?” he asked softly, and Torch raised his eyebrows.

“In this group? Who doesn't might be a better question,” he told him. “As much as I'd love to blame it all on the Republic soldiers, I can't. Some of ours have had chips on their shoulders since the second the Republic showed up, and they're not shy about it.”

Finn turned to watch the small unit more closely. They weren't arguing at the moment, but they had certainly separated themselves by first loyalty, and that was part of the problem. They weren't  _ just _ Republic or Resistance any more, and they couldn't continue acting as if they were.

They needed to act like a team, rather than two (or three) groups of squabbling children on the playground, or they were going to get themselves and their squadmates killed.

“Uh oh,” Paige said, sitting up as something began to beep. 

“Paige, what’s—”

“Oh, um. What? It’s nothing,” Paige said, suddenly hitting the comms. “Ah, okay, folks, we’re experiencing some slight turbulence, just please buckle all selves and cargo down here and we’ll be crashing shortly—I mean _ landing shortly _ .” 

Finn turned to look at the soldiers, who now looked thoroughly concerned—enough so that when the ship shuddered and dropped a short distance, two Republicans grabbed an ex-stormtrooper and yanked her into the seat between them without seeming to notice what they'd done.

Even Torch looked alarmed, glancing over at Finn and giving him a nervous smile as the ship rattled around them. Finn gave him a reassuring wink and rolled his eyes as Paige came over the comms again.

“Alright, I hope you're all holding on!” she said, her voice a little panicky. 

Finn snorted under his breath. He should have known that if he asked her to pretend to crash-land them, to make the soldiers believe there really was no other way home, she would make it dramatic. She was a pilot, after all.

There were several screams and a  _ thud _ that seemed real enough, though the fact that Paige put them down in a clearing that wasn’t farmland and didn’t damage the ship was pretty good indication that this was planned. 

No one picked up on it, though. 

“Everyone okay? Including our smaller guests?” Paige asked, hearing some groans from the back, and weathering a smack from her sister. 

Finn unbuckled and stood to check on the others. They looked disheveled, but no one appeared to be injured.

“Check your squadmates for injuries and meet outside in five minutes. We'll just carry out our training mission here,” Finn said. Then he turned and went forward to the cockpit, just to be sure that everything really  _ was  _ alright.

Rose was peeking into her box and murmuring to the likely terrified moss-hoppers inside, but Paige turned and gave him a thumbs-up.

“How was that, Colonel?” she asked, “Everyone still in one piece back there?”

“More or less. How about up here? That was some impressive...flying? Crashing?” Finn answered.

“I can't believe you crashed us! You scared the moss-hoppers half to death!” Rose scolded as she curled protectively over her box. 

“Fake crash as ordered, Colonel,” Paige said, and her sister socked her again. 

“That was fake?! You were faking?! I thought we were going to die!” Rose cried dramatically.

“Nope, all fake,” Paige told her little sister with a laugh. “Better release your critters and get back onboard. We’ll wait for you to take you back to base, Colonel?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Tico. Rose, you're welcome any time, even if you don't have any little rodents to save. Maybe  _ especially _ if you don't have any little rodents to save…” he said, and then he turned to rejoin Torch and the soldiers.

“Thanks for the warning, boss,” Torch told him dryly, and Finn chuckled.

“It was supposed to be realistic. Ready to go?” he answered, and Torch nodded, going with him to join the troops.

“I apologize for the rough landing,” Finn began, and the small group turned to regard him. He motioned for them to gather close enough that he wouldn't have to raise his voice to be heard.

“As you are aware, we've brought all of you out here for a training mission. When we combined the Resistance and Republican forces, we expected both forces to treat each other with the respect due fellow soldiers,” Finn started, noting that a few of them had the good sense to look uncomfortable at being scolded. “Unfortunately, it seems this is not the case. So, we thought we would give all of you the chance to learn to work together the easy way—before we have to start demoting people, or transferring them.”

He paused to meet the gazes of those watching him and realized he had their full attention—all but a few of them, at least.

“You are all soldiers. All of you have been taught to fight as a unit, and all of you have proven you are capable of doing so in your own squadrons. And you are all excellent soldiers, but you're behaving as if you only need concern yourselves with  _ some _ of your fellow soldiers. If you keep it up, the First Order will have no problem whatsoever in defeating us. Go ahead, ask your ex-stormtroopers for confirmation,” he said as a few of them gave him doubtful looks.

A handful of Republican and Resistance soldiers looked at the ex-stormtroopers, who shrugged uneasily and muttered in the affirmative.

“Consider this an opportunity to become better soldiers, before it ends badly for all of us. As you’re aware, we had a somewhat rougher landing than we'd anticipated...so we're going to have to walk home—if all of you can find the way back.”

“There’s one more catch,” Torch said. “You’re wearing a red shirt or a blue shirt. There are twenty beings on your team. You have to make sure all nineteen of them make it back. The first full team to make it back hits the showers. The losing team does the other team’s chore rotation the rest of the week.”

The crowd of soldiers muttered at this and checked their shirt colors, then muttered some more. There were some glares as friends realized they'd been split up and adversaries realized they now had to work with each other. Finn glanced over at Torch as the soldiers generally refused to separate themselves: the Zabrak scowled and shook his head.

There was more than one way to handle difficult troops, though, and Finn had been half-expecting this. He continued as if it wasn't happening.

“But first, I think there’s something we all need to see. I hope all of you came prepared to run. Luckily, we're most of the way there, so it's only another…five kliks or so?” he said, and he nodded to Torch, who would take the back and make sure they didn't lose anyone.

Then he turned, got his bearings for a moment, and set off at a fast walk that turned shortly into a jog, and then something closer to a run. At this pace, they'd all be worn out by the time they reached where he wanted to be.

They rolled up to the old Sith Temples huffing and puffing, but the thing the soldiers were all good at, in addition to infighting, apparently, was running. Finn hoped he had gone fast enough to take the fight out of them, but they weren’t some wimpy pilots. 

“Anyone know where we are?” Finn asked, when the last stragglers and Torch caught up to them. 

“Yavin Temples, sir,” a Republican answered. 

“ _ Massassi _ Temples,” barked a Resistance soldier, who might have been a local, or maybe just stationed here longer. “Old Sith ruins, I think.” 

“Yeah,” Finn said, putting his hands on top of his head to help him breathe. “Yeah, that’s right. Thousands of years ago, the Sith built these huge halls to sacrifice human lives to the Dark Side. That’s what these great buildings are. They’re impressive to attract followers. They’re imposing so when they drag beings up here to be slaughtered they don’t fight back.”

He paused, now that he had their attention with the grim scene, and did a little pacing, more because he’d seen General Organa do this than that it felt natural. 

“The First Order works like that. Some of you know that better than others.” Finn put his hands on his hips and looked around, catching a few of the Resistance and Republic soldiers looking at the ex-stormtroopers guiltily. “And that’s who we’re fighting. Not each other.” 

Now that they were higher up, he pointed down to the part of the Temples that had been converted into a museum: “And that part there. That’s where the Rebellion was based, fighting these guys the first time, thirty years ago. Luke Skywalker launched his X-Wing from here, and destroyed the First Death Star from right here. The Battle of Yavin—and the whole Rebellion—might have been lost if they hadn’t let some farm kid nobody knew into one of the very few X-Wings the they had. He saved the day.”

Finn stopped pacing and turned to level with them. “But none of us here are Jedi. None of us are going to save the day like that. Certainly not alone. That’s not what soldiers do. In the First Order, that meant we didn’t matter, but not here. Here we matter, but only when we move, think, and fight like a unit. You might not think you’d care if the guy next to you takes a blaster bolt to the head, but that just tells me you haven’t seen real combat yet, and that you’ll learn someday, maybe, hopefully, before it’s too late.”

The soldiers were mostly staring at the ground or at Finn, but they began to look around at each other. 

“I honestly don’t care if you like each other. I don’t care if you hang out and eat together. I’m not even saying that if we could act like a team for once, we could challenge the pilots to a boloball championship and  _ completely destroy _ them—” this got a few laughs— “but you will respect each other. You will work together.” 

Finn paused, glancing up at Torch, who nodded. 

“And if you want the other team to do your chores, you'll do it sooner rather than later, because the race home starts—now!” he added, and then laughed as the troops scrambled and tried to figure out the quickest way home, shouting at each other as they went. Finn and Torch watched, and when both teams had left, Torch reached to shake Finn's hand.

“Thanks, Colonel,” he told him, and Finn smiled.

“Thank me when we're sure it's worked,” he responded, but he had to admit that the way the groups had melted into the forest had looked a lot like teamwork.

…

When they returned to the ship, Paige and Rose were sitting on the ramp, both peering at a small, furry shape that was curled up on the toe of Rose's boot. It didn't move when the two men approached except to twitch the very tip of its tail.

“Ah. Um, I thought you were releasing them?” Finn asked Rose, who looked up at him and then shrugged.

“Me too. This one doesn't want to go,” she replied. 

She wiggled her toes in her boot, but it seemed unphased, merely uncurling and sitting up on its haunches to regard them all calmly.

“We tried poking it with a stick to shoo it off, but it just ran back into the ship,” Paige added.

The moss-hopper yawned and revealed all of its sharp little teeth and the venomous fangs that had so concerned the soldiers earlier.

“Well, we kind of need to go, so...figure it out? Have you tried walking into the bushes and then poking it with a stick?” Finn asked. 

Rose and Paige both gave him a ‘please make a stupider suggestion so we can outright laugh at you’ look, and Rose stood and walked very deliberately to the end of the ramp.

The moss hopper sprang from her boot and bolted back up the ramp to the top to watch all of them.

“I think he wants to go home,” Rose said, “But Staff Sergeant Fostoria will kill him! Or she’ll kill me!” 

“Make him ride in your pocket instead. It'd be really cute, and then you'd have a little guard mouse!” Paige suggested. “Either way, we gotta go, so get up here and we'll figure it out back home.”

She stood and went to the cockpit to start up the transport, and Rose returned to the ship. The moss hopper resumed its perch on her boot as she walked past Finn and Torch on her way to join her sister.

“Freaky little rodent,” Torch grumbled, and he took a seat as far from the cockpit, Rose, and the moss hopper as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn is totally Coach Booneing them.


	8. Chapter 8

Poe had a plan.

Like most of his plans, it was kind of desperate, a little bit crazy, and a lot dangerous. But it would work, definitely, and no one should get hurt, probably, and even if something went catastrophically wrong it would be one for the history books.

Or at least the tabloids.

(Actually, Poe was kind of glad Javos was off on another assignment for the _Beacon_.)

In fact, probably the only thing Poe would concede was a downside to his plan was that he couldn't tell BB-8. In fact, he had to keep it from BB-8, for it to really work. But he was a spy, after all, and whether good or lucky, he was decent enough at the job, _and still was_ , no matter what they all thought.

“Kind of young for a mid-life crisis,” he muttered to himself, and BB-8 swiveled their lens up in his direction.

[What are you talking about? _I'm_ not the one who’s making his droid get new hardware to integrate with a fancy new starfighter.]

Of course, he couldn't tell BB-8 _anything_.

“Hey, I didn't design these things. But the T-85s definitely have a different astromech integration clamp. Supposed to be better, but we'll see.”

Rose Tico was in the quartermaster’s station today, looking a little harangued.

“Just the tech I wanted to see!” Poe greeted her, and she hastily stuffed something in her pocket. “You think you can hook BB-8 up with a new clamp that'll fit the T-85s?”

“Oh, _ugh_ , why did they have to do that, am I right, Bee?” Rose asked, and soon the droid and the tech were involved in a conversation so technical that even Poe was lost.

“Uh, so...you can install it for them right away, right?”

“Of course!” she chirped, leading BB-8 away in animated conversation. “Oh, and Colonel Dameron is back early, I think he was looking for you, Admiral.”

“For me?” Poe wondered mildly, wishing Finn weren’t back _quite_ so early from his training mission. It was almost like a sign that maybe he should talk this through with someone before doing anything rash.

But that would be crazy.

Poe followed Rose and BB-8 into the supply room, ducking away only when the conversation got so heated they would be sure not to miss him. If he planted a discussion about modifying turbo lasers into the conversation to help them along, they didn't notice, and he slipped away with just what he wanted.

“Hey guys, I'm gonna go requisition myself a new belt, you okay here?” he said. They didn't even look up.

Which was good, because Poe slipped into a supply closet—one just off the hangar, not unlike one he and Finn would steal into for a private moment of they needed it—no guards or security patrolled it.

Poe’s plan was simple: execute a maneuver so exceptional, so skilled, so dangerous, and so _public_ that anyone would have to be crazy not to put him in a starfighter. And, while he was at it, he wanted to prove he was still a decent spy. If worse came to worse, this might actually get him busted back down to a Commander—or hells, he'd even take _Captain_ —which was where he wanted to be in the first place.

(If worse came to worse came to _worse_ , of course, he _could_ explode. But he was doing this to prove he wouldn't, and that was the point.)

…

When Finn got to the conn after a refresher and a quick look for Rey and Poe, and finding neither, all was quiet—or as quiet as it ever got. Connix wasn't on duty, which meant Timons wasn't either, but Lynette and Lottie were, and they looked up and waved as he entered. “Has Rear Admiral Dameron been in today?” he asked.

“Not since we got here,” Lynette answered, and Lottie shrugged in agreement.

“I think he's down in supply. Something about requisitioning a new docking clamp for his astromech?” a Republican recruit volunteered from the back corner of the room.

Finn nodded at her—Selah, he thought her name was—to continue. “I'm monitoring on-base communications. Private Tico was trying to find an extra pair of hands to help her with the clamps.”

Finn was a little puzzled, since Poe hadn't commed him after his big important meeting, but if he was with Rose, he must have gotten the news he wanted. Poe was probably just excited.

“Here's the flight roster for today, Sir,” Selah said, handing a datapad to Finn. “Since there's no Admiral on deck.”

This struck Finn as a little odd. Was Poe supposed to be _here_? He checked the roster, and saw Poe's name scheduled for later in the week, but not today. Where was—

Oh, _great_. Lightbridge was due on deck in half an hour, was notorious for arriving early and staying past his shift, annoying Finn and everyone else in the conn. He wondered if he could reschedule him elsewhere without anyone noticing.

“Blue Leader to Command Tower, we are ready to depart.”

Selah looked to Finn before answering. “Commander Wexley, you're a bit behind schedule, but you're cleared to depart. Have a safe patrol.”

“Do _not_ give him clearance yet, Command Tower, he's not even wearing his helmet,” Jessika’s voice piped up.

Snap’s belly laugh echoed through the command center. “Testor, you're such a tattle tale!”

Finn chuckled softly as Selah sighed and shook her head.

“Commander Wexley, when your helmet is on you are cleared for departure,” she said. Finn motioned for her to let him speak to Snap and Jess. The system clicked over to a private channel.

“Either of you happen to have seen Poe, while you were running late? Why _were_ you running late, anyway?”

“I ran into Poe! That's why I'm late! Someone as important as a Rear Admiral asks about something as important as the official betting pool on—”

“SNAP, SHUT UP!” Jess screeched, and Snap, as though realizing talking about his betting book over a secure channel wasn't really going to fly, Commander or not, and shut his mouth with an audible click.

“Commander Wexley prepared for takeoff, for real this time,” he said hastily.

“Roger that, Blue Leader. Have a nice flight.”

Things proceeded as normal for several more minutes, and then there were a few soft grumbles from the Command techs. This didin’t necessarily mean anything, but just as Finn was about to ask what was up, Snap’s voice hailed them again.

“Uh, Command, there's a—”

“Sir, I have activity from...one of the reserve TIE fighters?” Lynette reported. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, I get I’m new at this and all, but I’m pretty sure I never authorized that. Who's in there?” Snap demanded.

“Not sure, sir, there's no flight plan logged anywhere that includes that ship,” Lynette answered.

Finn pushed ahead to the big window that overlooked the hangar, and sure enough, a TIE fighter was definitely prepping for launch.

“Hail it,” he ordered, and Lottie activated their hailing frequency.

“This is Command hailing TIE R-361. You are not authorized for departure. Cut engines immediately and report to command. I repeat, cut engines immediately or we will be forced to take action,” he barked, and then switched back to the private channel to Snap.

“I need you two ready to pursue and disable if necessary, Commander,” he warned Snap as they waited for a response to their hails. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Though, that wasn’t strictly true, as it was really more of a _weird_ feeling than a _bad_ feeling.

No response came, as Finn half-expected. The fuel line disengaged with a clear pop, and Finn was struck by a sense of déjà vu, remembering his and Poe's escape from the _Finalizer_ —but seeing it now from the other side.

Was this a _spy_?

“The pilot is wearing a TIE helmet!” someone shouted from the flight deck over the radio. “It's a stormtrooper!”

The Republic and Resistance crew members in the conn looked around them uncertainly, now regarding Lynette, Lottie, Finn, and the other former stormtroopers with deep suspicion.

Finn ignored them and spoke to Jess and Snap instead.

“Looks like they're getting out of here—or trying,” he told them. “Can you keep that TIE here until we scramble the rest of the squadron? Don't shoot to kill, we want them alive.” If they had another spy—as it appeared they might—Finn wanted them for questioning.

And he wanted to know what kind of brainless First Order _twit_ would go to the trouble of stealing not only one of their most conspicuous ships, but the uniform to go with it. _That_ , more than most of this, made very little logical sense.

“Red Alert. Scramble Blue Squadron, tell them to keep this joker on the planet but not to kill them. Then get Rey up here, in case we need her, and comm the General,” Finn commanded, and people around him jumped into action, all talking at once to deliver messages. “And find Poe, we may need him. Look in Supply, that's where he was last.”

“Copy that, Command!” Snap and Jess said, revving up their engines and swinging around, but not any faster than the more maneuverable TIE. For a few horrible seconds the TIE hung in the air between the still-grounded X-wings and the Command Tower, and Finn wondered if the potential traitor would open fire. He could even see into the cockpit himself, and indeed, this moron was wearing a TIE helmet. Was this a prank?! Where was Deeks?

“It's getting away!”

“Close the blast doors!”

“Belay that, Snap won't get through!” Finn cried, as they finally got their ships in the air and swung around to pursue. The TIE fighter zipped out well ahead of them, as predicted, and the two X-wings followed out the hangar doors.

As if Finn's day couldn't get any worse, Lightbridge rushed into the Command center, demanding to know what was going on and shouting orders before he knew what the situation was.

Deso was right behind him, having lost whatever careful control of his shit he had managed to hold onto until now.

“Who is that?!”

“How could you let this happen?”

“I told you we can't trust any of them!”

“Shoot it down!”

“Belay _that._ I have the conn, gentlemen! _”_ Finn shouted over Deso and Lightbridge.

The other Colonel rounded on Finn, as angry as Finn had ever seen him.

“Do _not_ shoot to kill, I want this jackass alive,” Finn repeated, still staring down the other man. “Blue Leader, do you copy?”

“Copy, Command, we'll do our best,” Snap responded, and started rattling off orders to his fighters as they got into the air and tore off after Jess, Snap, and the TIE.

“Force _dammit_ these TIEs are zippy. Finn, we need Poe. Or Rey, I'm not picky, but we can't hold this guy for long,” Jess told Finn, and he was about to demand the whereabouts of both spouses when Lightbridge, apparently over the initial shock of having been countermanded by a jumped-up First Order turncoat, started yelling.

“How can one First Order spy out fly you all?” he shrieked. “Maybe they're _all_ spies! Admiral, I want all non-Republic pilots grounded until we get this sorted!”

Finn watched the fighters spin round and round each other, the single TIE leading now a dozen fighters strong on a merry chase. It was amazing to watch, and again he was reminded of his escape from the _Finalizer_.

“That's one hell of a pilot,” He found himself murmuring before he commed Rey personally. “Rey, we need you—”

“She's there, she's in the _Falcon_ with Chewie!” one of the techs shouted, scrambling to clear them all to launch at once.

“Good, if she can't catch them, no one will,” Finn said. “Rey, ion cannons only; disable, don't destroy!”

“Got it!” she said, amidst the distinctive sounds of the _Falcon_ 's engines roaring to life.

“Colonel Dameron, these are _my_ pilots to command—” Deso began, shrill, looking about seconds from attempting physical violence, if only he were not a shrimp of a man and Finn a soldier in his prime.

Finn, fed up with the utter inefficiency and incompetence of the Republicans, who seemed vastly more concerned with who was in charge than with resolving this emergency, whirled on Deso.

“Then _get up here and command them!”_ he shouted. This was most certainly a violation of the chain of command, since in matters such as these Deso took seniority to Finn. But, dammit, he _wasn't doing his job_ , and it was going to get people _killed_.

“Rey! Report,” he said into his comm, and the line crackled with the sounds of firing and of Chewie yelling something unflattering—though whether at Rey or the other pilot was not immediately clear.

“Give me a second, Finn, we've almost—” she paused and Chewie roared in triumph as they apparently clipped the TIE with ion cannons. “We got him!” Rey added.

Several cheers went up, before they were cut short.

“Okay, no, wait,” Snap said suddenly. “We got a problem, Finn, this guy is—shit, he's got no control over that thing now. I'll stay on him.”

“If there's a chance he can land that thing...” Jess said, though her tone was doubtful.

“Then we'll catch him and _then_ execute him, _after_ he's told us what he knows,” Lightbridge snarled, and Finn looked at him in surprise. He didn't like or respect the man—but he hadn't figured him for being quite so bloody-minded, either.

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Leia snapped, marching into the Conn.

“We have a rogue pilot, ma'am, but we don’t know any more about him,” Finn said, “and he's—good.”

“We don't know it's a _he_ ,” Deso snapped, sounding precisely like a child, otherwise Finn might have felt guilty for assuming. Except, he wasn't _quite_ assuming because, really, he wasn’t exactly born yesterday...

“Admiral, if a Force-sensitive officer has a hunch, you'd do well to trust it,” Leia informed him, as cool as ever. “Commander Wexley, report in. I'm showing our hostile is still in the air. Do we have a confirmed hit or not?”

Rapid pilot chatter answered:

“Oh my gods, is this guy flying this thing _without_ engines?”

“Maker, he's dead in the air and still _climbing_.”

“That _is_ one hell of a pilot!”

“I hit him! What the kriff? I _hit_ him!” This last voice was Rey, her mind too clouded to sense what was becoming obvious to Finn. It took someone else saying it for it to finally click.

There was _one_ pilot who could fly like he was guided by the Force itself. There was one pilot who could commandeer a TIE and successfully fly it, even after being tortured.

 _Poe_ was one hell of a pilot. This pilot, who had gone to the trouble of stealing a helmet but hadn't fired a single shot at the pursuing X-Wings or the Command Tower when he'd had a chance, was one _hell_ of a pilot, the best Finn had ever seen.

Finn went to the window now to watch the TIE fighter crest an arc and then plunge downwards, working into a tailspin as though on purpose. If this _was_ Poe, Finn's heart dropped to his stomach. He was headed straight for the ground at an alarming speed that was only increasing. The pilot chatter was all anyone could listen to as everyone in the conn held their breaths:

“He's coming in too hot!”

“Kriff, he's getting enough velocity to take off again!”

“No way he can pull himself out of a spin like that with those G-forces! You'd need—”

“...A mechno-arm?”

This was Rey, for she had realized it, now, too. Maybe because Finn had.

There was a pregnant pause.

“That's _Poe_?!” Jess screeched, her voice cutting out across the comlinks as it pitched too high. “Is this some kind of test?”

“Why wasn't I told?”

“This is _not_ a drill!” Deso screamed, sounding truly unhinged by now. “If that pilot ends up as anything more than a smear across the tarmac, I want—”

“Admiral, shut up,” Leia said, as silence returned, except for the scream of the careening TIE that could be heard even from here. One by one, X-wings and A-wings peeled off their pursuit.

The TIE, whoever was piloting it, was headed straight for the lake, and Finn put his hand up against the window, just as Rey gasped, “No!” like she had been punched.

At the last possible second, in a move that had to be superhuman, the TIE pulled up and out of its spin, skipping across the lake as lightly as Poe had taught Rey and Finn to skip stones. It skidded across the lake and to a stop on solid ground on the far side, no worse for wear than needing a new paint job.

“Get an S&R team down there,” Finn ordered. “He's not going anywhere.”

“ _Medics_? Get our MPs down there!” Lightbridge countered. “I want that idiot, whoever it is, in binders!”

“Especially if it _is_ Dameron,” Deso almost growled.

“It _was_ a good test run for our defenses, Admiral,” Leia pointed out, the only one remaining calm about this. “Now we know where our security holes are, and no harm done, really.”

If Finn didn't know any better, he might almost think she sounded amused.

He wished he could muster a similar level of amusement with his husband's antics—but he could already feel a sort of cold, creeping anger that settled heavily in his chest. _What_ in the _hells_ was Poe _thinking?_

“Let's get a team out there and see what we're dealing with,” Leia added in the tense silence after her previous statement. “Colonel Dameron, accompany the S&R team. Deso and Lightbridge, with me.”

Finn nodded acknowledgement and turned on his heel to join the S&R team, while Lightbridge and Deso raised their voices in argument with Leia.

...

Poe skidded to a stop in the TIE, still laughing in pure exhilaration. That hadn't _quite_ gone to plan. He hadn't expected them to send half a squadron after him so fast, and certainly hadn't expected to face off against Rey. But he was alive, no one and nothing was hurt or damaged, and if he had to brace himself for the whole base yelling at him, well, at least he'd proven his point. There was _no_ one else in any man's navy who could outfly a dozen Republic starfighters, with Snap and Jess in command, much less his wife the Jedi in the cockpit of the _Millenium Falcon_. No one else could put a dead bird down like he just had—quite literally. If he had tried that before the mechno arm, he would be so much stardust inside crumpled sheet metal in the bottom of this lake.

He waited for retrieval, still grinning under the helmet. He left it on, trusting them not to shoot him on sight, but _not_ trusting them to treat Admiral Poe Dameron differently than they would treat a pilot wearing an enemy helmet. He didn't want special treatment. That was the point of this exercise: Admiral Dameron doesn't get stopped in the hangar when spotted. Random TIE pilot _would_ have gotten stopped—if anyone had spotted him.

No one had. Because _he still had it,_ damn it.

They'd see him on the security footage later, sneaking past every patrol and every guard and every tech—this was better even than the _Finalizer_ escape, because that they'd done in plain sight. This was true espionage. He knew the holes in all the patrols, knew when the droids looked the other way, knew which ship was recently fueled and which was in a position to get out of the hangar.

And _then_ dodging at least fourteen birds—Poe was still counting them now, whirling above him like vultures—for at least two standard minutes before Rey got him. That looked good, too: only a Jedi in the legendary _Millennium Kriffing Falcon_ could shoot him down! The Republic would have to be genuinely _stupid_ to stick him behind a desk for the rest of his career after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promise me you'll remember all the fair points Poe made in Chapter 6 before you scream at us in the comments he's already sleeping on the couch for the next forever XD


	9. Chapter 9

If Poe  _ wasn't  _ dead, and Finn assumed by the pissed-off rather than devastated tenor of Rey’s voice over the comms that Poe was fine, then Finn was going to kill him. No, worse. He was going to side with  _ Deso _ , though it would probably kill  _ him _ , and let them ground Poe indefinitely without so much as a single word of argument.

Describing Finn’s current mood as incensed was like describing a day on Mustafar as good beach weather.

Poe could have  _ died _ .  _ Would _ have died, but for that mechno arm of his that he had from—what else— _ nearly kriffing dying.  _ Finn was mad, and sick with fear and a kind of uncontrollable, overwhelming panic because  _ Poe could have died _ . It would have been  _ Rey’s  _ shot that killed him, and Finn loved his wife so much he knew he would have lost her, too.

In short, by the time they reached Poe, he had wound himself into panic that mostly replaced his blinding rage at Poe for acting irresponsibly. _He could have died_ , _Poe could have_ died _._ _I could have lost them both,_ he thought, on repeat, until it felt like it would choke him.

Poe had by now disembarked in front of about thirty pathfinders with weapons raised and orders shouted to leave the craft slowly with no sudden movements. Poe complied, holding his hands above his head and going to his knees as instructed. 

Deso looked so bewilderingly furious it was almost a treat to witness, and he all but blew stem out of his ears as, after two of the soldiers put him in binders, someone removed his helmet.

Half the crowd sighed in a kind of relief, while the other half screamed in rage. 

“Poe, buddy, you had us worried!” Snap laughed, and the rest of the pilots looked like they were more amused or inconvenienced rather than upset. 

“Just keeping you on your toes,” Poe replied with a grin, and yelped as Rey came up to flung her arms around him. She took it in the spirit in which it was intended, grinning and frowning at the same time, and she slugged him hard in the shoulder but also kissed his cheek. 

“I want a divorce or a rematch,” she said, cheeks flushed with exhilaration, and punched him again. 

“I'll race you any time, sweetheart.”

Leia, however, was frowning. “Poe, what was this about?”

“Just proving a point, General,” he answered with a shrug, as easy as though he weren't standing there in binders under armed guard. “Admiral Deso can tell you wh—”

The punch came out of nowhere, surprising everyone but Poe. Deso himself had finally snapped, striking Poe across the jaw and snapping his head back. “The second you don't like an order you have to fly off and do something stupid, don't you?! You're not fit to command  _ anything _ !”

Leia snarled, “Admiral!” as one of the men holding Poe's elbows said, “Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back,” firmly, and a few soldiers held Deso back as he lunged at Poe again.

“Let's have this conversation more privately,” Leia instructed, “since we  _ all  _ seem to have taken leave of our senses.”

Finn had run out of patience for Deso—for everything about this situation, really—and was happy to relieve the soldiers who were holding him. Poe and Rey he ignored entirely, sure that any confrontation now would only lead to a fight in front of their General and numerous onlookers. 

When Rey tried to catch his attention, surprised by the feelings she felt coming from Finn, he gave her the smallest shake of his head and stopped looking her direction.

Deso was still spluttering and tried to lean around Finn to argue with Leia, because he apparently had very little in the way of a sense of self-preservation. Finn stepped in front of him and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“That's  _ enough _ , Colonel,” he growled to the man, and gestured for him to return to the ship.

They piled into the command shuttle for the ride back to base, all sitting quietly and awkwardly. Poe tried once to speak, but, “Admiral Dameron, you’re in enough trouble,” Leia snapped at him, once, and he fell silent. 

Back at headquarters, Poe found himself frog-marched to a meeting room with Leia, Finn, Lightbride, and Deso. Statura had arrived on the scene and looked—oddly hurt. Also, Finn still wouldn’t look at him. And the binders were kind of funny as a joke but…

“Okay, I’m really not a spy, that was just a—” Poe began once they were inside, and the guards and even Rey were sent away. 

“How do we know that?” Leia said coldly. 

Poe tried to spread his arms wide, but was stopped short by the binders. “General, I can explain the costume—” 

“ _ Can _ you? What were you trying to prove?”

“That I—”

“Don’t answer that. I don’t want you editorializing, Dameron.” She sighed. “ _ Admiral _ Dameron. Finn, I’m sorry.” 

“I want this man immediately stripped of his rank and court martialed!” Lightbridge said. “He should spend the rest of the war in a prison cell.” 

“Funny, because you wanted him shot down,” Finn growled.

Leia now turned on Lightbridge. “I wasn’t even aware you had the conn today.” 

“Well, I—he was—we thought it was a stormtrooper—” Lightbridge spluttered. 

“You genuinely thought an  _ actual  _ stormtrooper would go to the trouble of disguising himself  _ as  _ a stormtrooper before stealing a TIE fighter?” Finn countered. 

“I—”

“Colonel Lightbridge, leave us.  This is outside your jurisdiction, and your poor handling of the situation will go into my report,” Leia said, her mouth a thin line. 

Lightbridge looked about to argue, but left.

“Yours, too, Admiral Deso. I don’t care what he’s done, you can’t just assault another officer—much less in front of the troops. None of the stormtroopers or Resistance trust you Republicans much,  _ anyway. _ ” 

Deso had nothing to say to this, apparently over his earlier outburst.

Statura sat heavily. “Poe. What did you  _ do _ ?” 

Poe cleared his throat, sobered by the clear pain Statura was in. He liked Statura, and wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of his disappointment. Nor Leia’s, come to think of it. And Finn—Finn was giving him nothing. 

“I, ah—was... _ demonstrating _ what I can offer the Republic as a pilot and a sp—”

“By nearly getting yourself and your pilots killed?” 

“I wasn’t going to—” Poe began, and then stalled out. “I mean, but no one  _ was _ hurt…” 

It sounded like a weak defense now, that he’d essentially gotten lucky. 

On a hunch, Finn pulled up the pilot roster where he had seen Poe’s name before, and rolled his eyes before handing it off to Leia: Poe had  _ pre-scheduled _ himself for maintenance and sanitation—double shifts. 

There was something of a pause, before Leia marched up to Poe and slapped him across the face, adding to the bruise already blooming on his left cheek. 

“General!” Statura cried in alarm, though Poe weathered the slap. It felt rather like being reprimanded by his mother—though she had never struck him—from beyond the grave. Even she, he supposed, might have considered this stunt a little bit much. 

“I should demote you,” she said, and Poe was too stunned to reply. 

“Do you know  _ why _ no one was hurt?  _ Do you _ ?” Finn asked furiously. He wanted to shake Poe, although at least he appeared to be taking this a little more seriously now. 

“We were going to shoot you down, but a spy seemed more useful alive than dead,” Finn snarled, “and you know how hard it is to bring down a ship without killing the pilot. What the  _ kriffing hell _ were you planning on doing? You had  _ no _ guarantee you wouldn't end up dead.  _ None! _ ” 

Finn turned and paced back to the corner of Leia’s office, because he would  _ not _ make a fool of himself the way Deso and Lightbridge had. He was better than that.

“Finn, that’s the point. I outflew  _ Rey  _ up there. I’m wasted behind a desk—” 

“Wait,  _ what  _ is this about?” Leia peered at Poe like she didn’t want to believe he was real. “You pulled that stunt because you don’t like your promotion?” 

“I, ah—”

“The promotion that will keep you near your new wife and husband? Your child? Your aging father?” 

“Dad’s not—”

“The promotion that will make sure you survive this war so we don’t leave the defense of our future to fools and cowards?” Leia pinched her brow. “Poe, if you had a problem, why didn’t you come to me?” 

“General, I…” This time, no one interrupted him, and Poe was left with his mouth flapping. 

But being up there in the sky, in the middle of that fight, everything moving by fractions of seconds, just him and thin blue air...it was glorious. He felt alive up there. 

That still wasn’t an  _ answer _ , though. He wasn’t in this job for the rush. 

“I—I’m just not cut out for that—that kind of job. I can’t order people into combat and not go with them, General. I thought if they just  _ saw… _ ” 

“Dameron, we  _ know _ . We don’t need to see anything. You’re the best starfighter pilot in the Republic, and an excellent spy—if for no other reason than because you get lucky more than is average.” Leia sighed. “But even the best starfighter pilot can’t end this war all on his own. If we have another Starkiller, or another Death Star, you can bet we’ll get you in the cockpit. But we don’t right now. We have huge amounts of troops and starships to organize, and enemies we can’t even find, and we need you working on the bigger picture. You’re not going to do  _ anything  _ for the Republic from a prison cell, Dameron.” 

The fight rushed out of Poe, and he huffed. “You—you’re not going to—actually press charges, are you?” 

He looked around, but Leia glanced at Finn. 

“Colonel Dameron was the Commanding Officer in charge at the time,” she said, raising her eyebrows. 

Finn glared balefully at Poe for far longer than was comfortable, and longer than he'd looked at Poe since they'd recovered him. Then he looked back over at Leia.

“He can think about his stunt in the brig overnight,” Finn told her, not glancing over at Poe. Poe was lucky he didn't suggest grounding him—and Finn only refrained from doing so because Deso didn't need to know that grounding was a particularly useful weapon against Poe.

“ _ Finn— _ ” Poe began, feeling a little shaky, though that might be the adrenaline wearing off. “ _ Colonel _ , look, I can explain—”

“You’ve explained enough, I think,” Finn said. “Let’s analyze the footage so at least something good can come from this. Guards, get him out of here.” 

Poe found himself being summarily marched through the base by two armed soldiers he didn’t know—probably Finn knew them, but he didn’t—and he could manage only the weakest of smiles and thumbs-ups at the gaggle of pilots milling about outside, though they could probably see the blush on his cheeks. 

“We’re sorry about this, sir,” one of the guards said, unlocking the binders and showing him to his cell. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Poe answered. 

…

Alone in the office, Leia put her hand on Finn’s shoulder, where he had collapsed into a chair. “He’s okay, Finn.”

“But he could have  _ not _ been, he could have  _ so easily _ been hurt, or killed—Lightbridge wanted to shoot him down, and if I hadn't been there…” Finn said, not finishing the thought. His shoulders slumped. “Rey could have shot him down and he could have died, and he did it just to prove some dumb  point.”

Leia smiled. “I didn’t say he was smart. Or, he  _ is _ . Too smart for his own good. Pick a lock to eat poison kind of smart.” 

She motioned for Finn to sit, and took his hand. 

“Han would pull shit like this, too.” A laugh burst out of her, even as her eyes brimmed with tears. “ _ Way _ too often. You should hear what he did when he found out I was pregnant.” 

Finn's eyes widened, wanting badly to ask what Han had done—but then again, his first acquaintance with the man had included being chased around his transport ship by two groups of smugglers and several rathtars...so he could only imagine.

“I don't understand how he decided this was  _ clearly _ the _ only _ logical solution. There must be at least five other solutions I can think of that don't involve dressing up like a stormtrooper and stealing an X-Wing just to outfly the best pilots in the Resistance,” he added, sounding aggrieved, but maybe also a little amused that this was the solution Poe had found. “I just— _ how _ did this seem like a good idea?”

“Well, we don’t know how his meeting went this morning,” she said, now that it was just her and Finn and she could be frank. “And I don’t expect they let him down gently. Not that they should, he’s a big boy. But that’s the problem with the flyboys. When they even  _ think  _ they’re being backed into a corner, that they’re trapped, the more they need to be free. They panic, and stupid moves start sounding smart. But you already know that about Poe.” 

Leia groaned, and shook her head. 

“Not that it’s any excuse. He needs to grow up. Han never did, not really, I think, but...Poe’s different. He’ll come around. You  _ might  _ just have scared him straight,” she added with a wry smile.

“Well, hopefully not  _ totally  _ straight,” Finn smiled in return and shook his head. “I maybe feel a little bad about sending him to the brig overnight. Only a little, because he deserved it and maybe Deso and Lightbridge won't try to ground him, now, but…” 

And he imagined there would be something of a discussion with Rey about it, though if she was sensing them both she would certainly know neither of them was very happy with the other.

As if summoned, there was a knock at the door. When Leia called for whoever it was to enter, Rey strode into the room, a smile fading instantly from her face at Finn's mood. “Finn, are you alright? Where's Poe?”

“Poe is in the brig for the night,” Finn answered, skipping over the first question. “He's fine—just…being given some time to think about what he did. He'll be out in the morning.” He motioned to the roster on Leia’s desk. “Just in time for the extra duties he signed himself up for before he pulled his stupid stunt.”

Rey blinked. “So...it wasn’t a joke?” 

“Oh, I think  _ Poe  _ thought it was,” Leia said, patting the chair next to her. “Thank you for responding so quickly, my dear. The whole scenario might have been significantly more embarrassing if not for you.” 

Rey smiled out of one side of her mouth, and then turned to Finn, a little wistful. “Well, can we go see him? Or are we mad at him?” 

Now that she thought about it, of course, it was quite dangerous. In the moment she had just been caught up in the rush—which wasn’t like her at all, actually. She frowned, now. 

“You’re worried that he could have gotten hurt,” she said slowly, as though just realizing it. 

Finn looked over at Rey and raised both eyebrows. 

“He  _ did _ dress up like a stormtrooper, steal a First Order ship, and play keep-away with our best pilots,” he answered. “There are so many ways that could have gone wrong that I can't even list all of them.  _ You _ could have shot him down, and us none the wiser until it was too late.” 

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Everyone knew the TIEs lacked anything in the way of shields to protect them—that Rey could bring one down without causing it to crash was as much a testament to her aim as it was to Poe’s nearly superhuman piloting abilities.

“Well, when you put it like  _ that _ ,” Rey said. Now she felt rather stupid, too, for being caught up in the thrill of the moment and not stopping to think about the danger—to Poe, or herself, she supposed, if the TIE  _ had  _ been an escaping spy. She turned and hugged Finn. “Thank you for keeping us safe.” 

Finn smiled softly and pressed his cheek to Rey’s neck as she hugged him. 

“Always, sunshine,” he told her. He'd been afraid she'd be annoyed with him for throwing their husband in the brig, but he'd clearly not been giving her enough credit. “You can go see him, of course. I think…I should wait, if for no other reason than Deso and Lightbridge will be looking for a reason to accuse me of favoritism.”

He glanced over at Leia and then looked back to Rey and added, “And if you wanted to go visit Dr. K and take him an ice pack, it probably wouldn't go amiss.”

Leia actually had the decency to blush. “I didn’t hit him  _ that  _ hard.” 

Rey laughed, eyes wide in surprise.

“He probably  _ liked  _ it,” Finn groaned, putting his head in his hands, which only made Rey laugh more, until Finn was laughing, too.

“Anyway, I was referring to Deso—though you  _ had  _ just lectured him about losing his cool, and then you went off like that…” Finn scolded with a wry smile.

Leia grimaced slightly.

“Do as I say, not as I do, and all that…” she said, tone dry and a little embarrassed. “Regardless of the cause, I am certain Poe would appreciate an ice pack,” she told Rey, who was still grinning.

“Okay. I’ll take BB-8 to go see him. Actually, I haven’t seen BB-8…” 

…

“You have a visitor, sir,” Poe heard, and looked up from where he was holding a damp towel against his cheek—and then looked down, as his visitor was a droid. 

Poe’s face lit up. “BB-8! Buddy!” 

But when he got to the bars, the droid extended his electro-probe and gave him a sharp shock.

“ _ Ow _ ! Force, Bee, you, too?” 

BB-8 let loose with a tirade the likes of which were usually only heard from R2 when he was being exceptionally moody (though with substantially fewer curses).

[YOU FLEW WITHOUT BB-8! YOU SAID YOU WOULD NOT FLY WITHOUT BB-8!] they shrieked. [AND YOU SCARED FRIEND-FINN! He yelled at Deso and Lightbridge to keep them from shooting you down, I know because R-B-3 told me because they were listening over the comms!]

Hearing the ruckus, the guard on duty suck his head in.

“Everything okay—?” he started, but stopped when BB-8 swiveled their dome around at him with an annoyed honk. 

“Nevermind,” he added and beat a hasty retreat. 

BB-8 rolled against the bars with a distressed whistle.

[AND YOU ARE INJURED! YOU STUPID MEATSACK!] they finished, rolling sadly against the bars with a soft little  _ thonk _ .

“Bee, BB-8, my buddy, I’m not  _ injured _ ,” Poe said, sitting gingerly beside the bars and getting zapped again for good measure. But on the third try he stuck his hands through the bars and BB-8 bleated sadly—way too sadly for Poe’s liking. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? This was something I needed to do on my own—”

[Something  _ stupid _ .]

“Yeah, something stupid I needed to do on my own,” Poe said, and took a deep breath to explain, but let it out in a long sigh, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” 

BB-8 swiveled their optic lens up at him and hooted softly. 

Man and droid sat like that for a few minutes longer before Poe couldn’t resist asking, wryly, “...So what else did R-B-3 tell you?” 

[That we’re taking home the whole pot on who punches Deso first!] BB-8 twittered, a waterfall of droid laughter. [You can spend it on me so that I will forgive you!]

Poe’s laughter joined BB-8’s. “Anything you want, buddy.”

[At those odds, R-B-3 estimates your winnings at close to 327 credits! That’s 65.4 oil baths! Unless you end up in the brig for a year and void your winnings. Perhaps Friend-Snap will let me collect them in your stead...]

“I’m not going to end up in the brig for a  _ year _ , BB-8,” Poe said, and then, with less confidence, “am I?” 

That would be overkill for what did amount to disorderly conduct. Finn was the officer in command, he had made sure of it, so it would be up to him, and it was Finn, his own husband…

Who was really, really mad about what he had done. 

Still, not  _ that  _ mad, surely? 

Poe scrambled to his feet as another visitor arrived. “Rey! Rey, thank the Maker, you’re not mad at me, too, are you? I’m sorry, I really am, I was just—I tried to—they wouldn’t—”

He took a breath. “Look, let me start over…” 

Rey held up the ice pack and offered it through the bars to Poe, and he trailed off, touched by the offering. 

“It wouldn't be fair of me to be mad at you, not when I enjoyed that chase as much as you did,” she told him, and peered at his bruised face. “Deso got you good, didn't he? And the General, apparently.” 

BB-8 wobbled guiltily at her feet and surreptitiously retracted their electro-probe. Rey raised her eyebrows. 

“ _ And _ BB-8…” She shook her head. “Want to try explaining to me what happened and why?” 

Poe sighed loudly, leaning against the bars. He pressed the ice to his cheek, but only briefly. “You should have heard them this morning, Rey. They want me to—look, I can’t order pilots into a fight I’m not in. I can’t be somewhere  _ safe  _ while they’re out risking their lives. You couldn’t do it, either.” 

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “And these people, they don’t have any regard for the lives lost. They don’t know how many people I knew  _ personally  _ who died in this war. I have their names tattooed on my skin. And they want to come in here, after so many people have died, and tell me how to do my job. The arrogance!” 

“And then you wanted to try to be as stupid as them?” Rey asked. 

“Yes—no!” Poe glared at her, and then deflated again, and laughed. “ _ Rey _ . It was  _ actually  _ really smart, you’ll note. I thought of everything.” 

“Oh really? You  _ planned _ on me shooting you down? And on the others not hitting you badly enough to disable everything and turn you into a fireball? And on Finn being able to gainsay any order Lightbridge gave?” Rey asked just a little sharply. Then she softened. “Poe, not even  _ I  _ can say with certainty that so many things will go right, and I’m almost a Jedi.” 

“Lightbridge wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t on duty. I checked,” Poe countered, petulantly, but she had a point.

Sighing, she put her hand through the bars to take Poe’s hands and leaned over to kiss his cheek—which was only a little awkward with the bars partly in the way.

“You know I love you, and Finn loves you, and your pilots and the General love you in their own ways—that’s why Finn is so mad, and why Leia is currently talking him down from a panic. Do you think she's never felt the same way? She's the  _ General _ , she's never allowed in combat. She sends all of us,” Rey said. 

“Yeah, well—she’s a princess.” 

“And you’re certainly acting like one. All I'm saying is  _ maybe _ talk to her about it next time, instead of all—this,” she added, gesturing to the cell and Poe’s current condition.

“I know, all right? I should have—tried something else. I’m sorry,” Poe groaned, and bit his lip. “Finn’s not— _ really _ worried, is he? Really mad?” 

He couldn’t help but notice Finn hadn’t come to visit, and it stung more than he expected. 

“Well, he's not  _ happy,  _ and he'll probably have words for you tomorrow morning. But he did suggest the ice, and that he couldn't come down because Lightbridge and Deso are probably waiting to jump all over him,” Rey answered. She did feel bad for Poe, who looked miserable indeed, and bad for Finn, who had clearly on second consideration wished he hadn't sent Poe to the brig without so much as a clipped ‘But I'm glad you're okay.’

“So...when’re we going to race? You're pretty handy with those little TIEs and that mechno-arm,” she said, changing the subject before Poe could start moping.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. I guess. Whenever I’m out of here. Maybe we could build some pod racers. I told you about souping up some of dad’s farm equipment to try to make it go faster when I was a teenager, right?” Poe laughed. “Guess I was always kind of an idiot. I crashed into the Force tree.”

Poe sighed, worrying his lip. “Tell Finn I’m sorry. Kiss Sammy for me.” Then his eyes grew wide and he sat up. “ _ And do not tell my dad about this. _ ” 

Rey laughed brightly at this and shook her head. “Your dad the ex-Pathfinder? Poe, he probably already knows. He hears way too much for someone who never actually comes to the base. He's probably running a droid spy ring or something…” 

She reached over to pat his arm comfortingly. 

“But I won't tell him, I promise. You're sure you're okay? They're planning on letting you out early enough you can come home and shower and change before your extra duties. Clever, by the way,” she told him with a grin.

“Have they scheduled my court martial yet?” Poe wondered.

“I don't know that anyone is pressing charges,” Rey said, shrugging. “It might look better—if this gets out—that you were running a surprise training drill. That's what Leia said, anyway.”

“Oh.” Poe scrubbed his face with his hand, and then reapplied the ice. “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. Sorry I—tell Finn I'm sorry.”

BB-8 looked up at both of them. [I will remain here with Idiot-Friend-Poe.]

Poe laughed. “Watch it, buddy. And what will Sammy think if we're both gone, huh?”

BB-8 hooted sadly in response, but still managed to reply with a definite dig, [Guess you should have thought of that before getting yourself locked in the brig overnight.]

Poe sighed. He wasn't going to win anything for a long time, he could tell.

Rey patted Poe’s shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, cheer up. It'll be okay, just maybe...keep your head down and stay out of trouble for a bit. I'll tell Finn you're sorry, but you should also tell him when you see him.” 

She brought his free hand to her lips and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. “Try to get some sleep,” she told him.

“You're too nice to me,” Poe revealed quietly.

Rey laughed. “Maybe someday you'll deserve it.”

Poe answered with a grin. “Doubt it.”


	10. Chapter 10

That evening, Rey helped Kes cook while Finn amused Sam, laying on his back in the living room and holding Sam up so he could flail and pretend he was flying.

But Sam soon grew bored (or else worried) of this game, and Finn set him down on his chest. He burbled softly for several minutes before announcing “Ba!” at the top of his baby lungs and looking around expectantly.

Finn tickled Sam’s ribs, trying to distract him, but he refused to be put off and only fussed and squirmed and nearly fell off Finn's chest.

“Sammy, little fella, no, you're going to get Papa in trouble,” Finn whispered, and then considered.

“...More trouble, I mean. Shhhhh, Sam, come on buddy,” Finn added when Sam grew quiet in the way that suggested he might start yelling.

“I know! Let's go see your mom and Grandpa, huh?” Finn tried, and then scrambled to his feet to take Sam to the kitchen.

Sam allowed himself to be brought into the kitchen, but seemed always to be looking around. Finn and Rey almost began to sense that he thought Papa had disappeared again.

“So...Poe’s working late...” Kes ventured innocently, taking Sam so Finn and Rey could begin to eat.

“Yeah, something about training the new pilots or something?” Finn said, almost too casually. He took a bite of his food before Kes could ask him for more information. From across the table, Rey gave him a look of mild amusement—he was still _so bad_ at lying when you could actually see his facial expressions. It was like he had no idea what to do with his entire face when he wasn't telling the truth.

Kes snorted and juggled Sam on his lap, letting him feed himself some cheesy beans and carrots. When Sam was occupied, Kes tried Rey. “Okay, what did he do? He pissed off Leia and has a mountain of paperwork to do before he can go home?”

“Something like that, yes,” Rey responded. “So much paperwork. _So much._ He might be at it all night.”

Even if it wasn't true now, she was certain it would be shortly. So it was basically true.

“All night, _really_?” Kes mused, adding a little chili to Sam’s food, and a few more veggies to his plate. He sat back and looked between them. “He’s in the brig, isn’t he? What did he _do_? Finally haul off and hit Deso?”

Finn felt his face going hot at having been caught out, but Rey only laughed good-naturedly. She shook her head.

“Not...exactly, no. Deso did hit _him_ though,” she said.

“Uh, excuse me?”

“He stole a TIE and tried to fly off with it, like an idiot, and then crash landed it by skipping it across the lake,” Finn blurted out, adding to Rey's incomplete explanation.

Kes blinked. After thirty-four years, he thought he would stop being surprised by his son’s stunts, but this _was_ actually a new one.

“For what it's worth, he asked me to tell you how sorry he is at least two or three times, and BB-8 shocked him a few times just so he'd know how annoyed they were,” Rey told him.

Kes cocked his head to one side. “Did he...say _why_? Or was this a ‘I’m gonna see what I can get away with’ kind of stupid?”

Then Kes shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. What kind of trouble is he in, really? I don’t have any kind of money for a _lawyer…_ ”

Finn sighed and rubbed at his temples.

“I don't know. It would probably have been worse if he hadn't outflown everyone but Rey. They can't very well take him out of action the rest of the war, not when they need him,” he said. And he was fairly certain that Leia would step in if Lightbridge and Deso tried to hand down an unfair sentence.

Rey nudged some carrots back into the middle of Sam’s plate as he chased them close to the edge and nearly off.

“No ships or people were damaged, so he has that going for him. I think Leia wants to call it a surprise training drill if anyone asks. He'll still be reprimanded, but not severely I don't think. I don't think he needs a _lawyer_ , certainly,” she reassured Kes.

Finn quirked a small smile.

“And if Deso or Lightbridge _really_ want to push their luck, I volunteer to hit both of them,” he said.

“ _Finn_ ,” Rey said, lightly scolding, but she was grinning. “Come on, you’re the only one who has maintained any kind of restraint. Don’t ruin it.”

Kes shook his head. “See, why couldn’t I have a level-headed, _smart_ son?”

Then he laughed and leaned in to kiss Finn’s forehead. “Good thing I do now, huh? Well, I won’t bother keeping any of this warm for him. I should act _really_ disappointed tomorrow, yeah? Maybe get mad, tell him he can’t stay in the house?”

Rey and Finn looked at each other as their father-in-law’s ideas for pranks became ever more elaborate: for all that they tried to pretend they were very different, Poe and Kes were also surprisingly similar. Finn helped, once he warmed up to it, suggesting they tell Poe they'd given his room to Chicken, or even to Crix Madine—but then Rey laughed and reminded him that Poe’s room was the same as theirs so that probably wouldn't work.

“And Chicken isn't allowed in the house anyway,” Kes added when Finn got a thoughtful look on his face.

Bored with mushing vegetables around his plate, Sam flailed and whacked Kes in the arm before they could come up with any further pranks to pull on Poe.

“Ba!” he demanded, and gnawed thoughtfully on his mechno arm for a moment. “Baba!” He whacked Kes’ arm again and fussed softly.

“Of course, a true punishment would be dealing with a fussy baby,” Kes pointed out, tipping Sam back in his arms and rocking him. “Maybe we could deliver the baby to Base?”

When Sam didn’t quiet down, Kes stuck an exploratory finger in his mouth. “Ah. Oh. You know, it’d be just like Poe to get himself thrown in the brig when he starts teething.”

“Teething?” Rey looked a bit panicked.

“Yep!” Kes chirped, quite happy in contrast to Sam’s clear upset. “Baby teeth coming in. It hurts their gums, as you’d imagine. See, you can see the front ones coming in already!”

Sam, however, was completely distressed at having his mouth pried open, and started screaming.

“How do we make it better?” Finn asked, slightly distressed, as Rey leaned forward and made funny faces to try to distract their child. It didn't help—Sam only paused for a moment before taking another breath and wailing.

“Oh no, Sammy, what's wrong? Your mouth hurt? Look here, look, it's—it’s Crix Madine!” Rey was saying as Finn fretted. She stooped to pick up the pittin, who was sauntering through the kitchen. He gave a confused _mrowl_ and patted at Sam’s face with a soft paw.

“Not much we can do, I’m afraid. I think we got some baby symoxin we could give him if it gets bad, but mostly stuff to chew on will help,” Kes explained, handing Sam a rubbery toy, which the baby immediately stuck in his mouth. “I’d also say he’d drool a lot, but...our little guy’s already got that covered.”

Sam did quiet somewhat, with something to gnaw on, and Kes passed him off to Finn, who looked worried. Finn took him and rocked him softly, brushing his fingertips up and down the arm that wasn't holding the toy. He was relieved when Sam started blinking sleepily in between gnawing, and when he yawned Finn got a look inside his mouth and grinned as he looked over at Rey.

“It's the two front ones on the bottom!” he told her, and she stood to join them and murmur softly to Sam, something about how he was going to grow big and strong.

For just a minute, Finn stood with one arm wrapped around Rey's shoulders as she leaned against him and the other holding Sam, and everything felt very close to peaceful—except, of course, that they were missing their ridiculous, wonderfully irresponsible and obnoxiously brave husband, as well as BB-8.

“I hope he's getting a good rest tonight, because I can tell you who _I'd_ put on fussy teething baby duty for the next few nights…” Kes said, smiling at the three of them.

…

Poe slept terribly, of course, and it wasn’t the bed—he could sleep in a cockpit, so it wasn’t the bed, which was fine. It was definitely being separated from Rey and Finn and Sam.

_You know, that thing that happens when you go out on patrol. Or fly missions._

_Or get yourself nearly killed._

It was still way too early—there wasn’t a chronometer in here, but BB-8 had told him the time a few hours ago, and Poe was a little too worried it would only have been minutes if he asked again, but he was done trying to sleep. Time did move slower on the inside, he thought with a laugh.

Plenty of time to think. To get used to the idea of...being home with his family. Which was a perfectly normal thing to want. His weird, raised-by-sand-and-fascists-respectively spouses had figured that out. _Adventure makes you late for dinner,_ wasn’t that Rey’s favorite line from that story she liked?

They were here to finish this fight. And they were here to win it. And they were going to do it together. He owed it to them to make it out of this alive.

If he never flew again (and he _would_ , it wasn’t like he couldn’t _fly_ ever again, even that witch Holdo had said that), it would be a fair trade.

Now that he’d made up his mind about it, Poe felt better: ready to deal with whatever he’d stirred up for himself.

_Maybe this is why you should have talked to the General, first._

_Or, you know. Anyone._

“Rear Admiral?”

Poe scrambled to his feet. Two guards were waiting at the door, startling BB-8, who had gone into low-power mode.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry about this, sir, but we have to—”

Poe held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. Sorry for putting you in this position. Where are we going?”

“We’re to escort you to officer’s refreshers and then to your...duties.”

Poe raised an eyebrow. “They want me under guard?”

He wasn’t mad, just...surprised.

“Just until your hearing today, sir.”

“Oh…kay…” Poe said. He took a deep breath. That made sense. It was just going to be a little mortifying. “Okay. When’s the hearing?”

“1300, sir. Oh. And here’s your breakfast, sir. Sorry it’s not—”

“Stop apologizing. You haven’t done anything wrong. I have, remember?” Poe grinned at them, and they relaxed.

“We’ll give you a few minutes, sir.”

Poe looked at his breakfast. It was soul-crushingly bland: caf, black, and two protein bars. They were, at least, flavored, so he could say he was eating better than Finn had in the First Order. Certainly better than Rey had on Jakku. Poe ate it without complaint, used the toilet, and waited at the door.

“You don’t have to follow me around today, Bee,” Poe said. “It’s probably going to be boring.”

[Looks like you’ve been scheduled to the maintenance hangar. With Sergeant Tico in charge of you.]

“Great,” Poe laughed. “You don’t think she’s mad about yesterday, right?”

[Why would she be? _I_ wasn’t mad about being lied to and snuck off on.]

“You know, you sound so _innocent_ , Bee.” Poe sighed. Not to mention _everyone he worked with_ would see the two guards following him like his shadows. That was going to be humiliating. But, he still deserved it.

…

Finn was disappointed when morning rolled around and Poe didn't arrive home with it. He left Rey sleeping and went to the kitchen, where Kes was sitting with a sleeping Sam in his arms and drinking caf.

“Oh, so _now_ he's sleeping,” Finn said softly. Sam had woken up multiple times overnight, apparently determined to let the whole world and everyone in it know that he had teeth coming in and he was not happy about it.

Kes laughed softly and gestured for Finn to join him, but Finn was restless, and he'd wanted to talk to Poe this morning, and after trying to sit still for ten minutes he went and got dressed. Rey mumbled sleepily at him as he was leaving and he paused to brush her hair back from her face and kiss her cheek.

“I'm going to the base, Kes is watching Sam, and you should go back to sleep,” he told her. She sighed and buried her face back in her pillow and he smiled.

...

Poe was easy enough to find. Finn asked a bored ensign on brig duty where he was, and the woman told him the guards had escorted him to the refreshers. The guards were content to pretend they didn't see Finn as he strolled past them, and he caught Poe just as he was stepping out of the refresher.

Poe nearly leapt out of his skin—since that was all he was wearing—when he saw Finn standing there. He clutched a towel to him and stood there dripping and unsure what to say. “Hey! Buddy!”

He tried grinning, then looked apologetic, and dropped his eyes. “Are you here to—look, I’m sorry, okay? I get that it was stupid and unnecessary and I know why they’ve assigned me where they have, I just. But if you want to yell at me, too, go ahead.”

Finn shrugged his shoulders awkwardly.

“I don't feel like yelling at you anymore,” he told Poe. He couldn't yell at him when he looked so contrite.

“I don’t understand how you could do something so reckless. I was mad because I could have lost you, and it would have been Rey who shot you down, so I'd have lost her, too,” he admitted, and then took a breath to sigh softly.

Poe rushed to Finn in one movement, and grabbed his elbows, letting the towel fall to the floor. “ _Finn_.”

“But then I cooled down and you were stuck here and I felt bad I didn't even tell you that even though I was angry at you, I was _more_ relieved that you weren't hurt,” he added. It had bothered him all night, in between being up with a fussy Sam or unable to get comfortable because he just _couldn't_ and Rey was restless and kept kicking him on accident.

“Buddy, you didn’t have to worry about me. Not like I was stuck in some First Order detention cell. I was fine. Missed you. How was Sammy?”

“Teething, so miserable.”

Poe winced, feeling even worse—not that he’d slept any better. “Poor guy. Poor _you_ guys.”

“Anyway, so that's what I wanted to tell you. No matter how mad I was I'm glad you're okay, and the only thing saving Deso from a black eye is that if I hit him, he'll look a lot less terrible in Leia’s report.”

And Leia _and_ Kes _and_ Rey would be upset with him if he did. Punching Deso was _not_ worth upsetting his wife, his father-in-law, and his General.

Poe snorted softly at that, and tilted his chin back to show a jawline as square as ever. “You know, I was almost hoping for an actual shiner, but look—you can’t even see a mark. Deso’s got a weak right hook. Nobody’s going to believe he even touched me.”

Finn looked closely at Poe’s jaw, but he was right—there was no bruise at all. He grabbed his chin and snuck a kiss while he was this close and then grinned.

“I somehow don't see them getting away with not believing the General when she insists he punched you—especially since he’s a sorry excuse for a soldier.” He shuffled out of the way so Poe could get dressed, but added, “I'm at least 95% sure Deeks has given multiple people worse injuries on accident just because he has the grace of a tauntaun in a tea shop…”

Poe laughed at that, and then leaned in to hug Finn. “Thanks for wanting to defend my honor, anyway. Whatever’s left of it. I’m sorry I worried you, buddy.”

After a minute, Finn released him to finish getting dressed. He didn’t have any of his hair stuff, and he was _not_ shaving with that razor if he didn’t have to, but otherwise he looked more or less presentable, for someone who was about to be a greasemonkey for the morning. “Uh. So I guess you know my hearing’s today. If you’re my prosecution and my husband, isn’t that a conflict of interest? Now’s your chance to stick me for all those dirty socks that don’t make it in the hamper.”

“Hmmmm, that _is_ tempting,” Finn joked, “But actually you can pay for that by getting up with Sam tonight when he gets upset about his teeth.”

“Deal.” Poe actually desperately missed his son, despite only missing him for a day.

Finn stepped back to look at Poe, who looked very rugged and a little scruffy in his deck crew jumpsuit. It wasn't a bad look on him, really, and he entertained thoughts of pushing him up against the wall and kissing him… He sighed a little wistfully at the daydream and squeezed Poe’s shoulders.

“I guess we better break it up before they come in here,” Finn said, trying not to grumble.

“I guess.” Poe straightened himself to face the music. “So I’ll see you at the hearing? You don’t have to go easy on me. I’ll still love you.”

He did his best to wear a brave smile.

“Yeah, I'll see you. I _could_ ground you, if you're worried I'll go easy on you,” he offered, because bad jokes always made things better. He winced as soon as he said it and instead, pulled Poe to him to give him a hug and a kiss.

“Hey, now, that’s low,” Poe complained, but lightly. Either he didn’t believe Finn’s threat, or he didn’t quite find it a threat anymore, and let Finn yank him into a hug.

Finn raised both eyebrows at him in surprise, but didn’t want to draw attention to the unexpectedly mild response by saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced down at BB-8, who had been quiet and still through their conversation.

“Hey, buddy, you're keeping an eye on him today?” he asked, and BB-8 gave a little nod of their dome.

[I will ensure we are not late! And that he is not covered in grease when we get there…] they warbled. Finn smiled—he hadn't been concerned about that, exactly, but he was relieved nonetheless. BB-8 could keep track of time, at least, if Poe got up to his elbows in starships and lost track of it.

“I don’t need a babysit—” Poe began, but BB-8’s very loud honk said otherwise. “Okay, okay! Though that’s really more of a parole officer…”

Poe laughed as BB-8 chased him out of the refresher, and the two guards stood at attention, and saluted Finn.

“Ready to go, sir?” they asked Poe.

Poe shrugged. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

…

The day did pass quickly for Poe. He actually liked starship maintenance, and even if Rose did start him off repainting the TIE _with a paintbrush no bigger than his pinky,_ it was work he enjoyed doing. Even the mehanics, once they’d had their fun teasing him, were good to work with, and they even came to his defense when a gaggle of pilots came prowling around to take their shots. It was all in good fun, but Rose had reminded them how pissed off techies don’t tighten screws so good, and Poe had raised an eyebrow at them and they managed to find other things to do after that.

He left the hearing a free man, unencumbered by guards more uncomfortable with the arrangement than he was, with only a misdemeanor in his record and the “punishment” schedule he had set for himself—doubled.

So he arrived back on the homestead later than Finn, and starving.

“Daaad, this isn’t funny!” Poe shouted from outside, banging on the locked door.

“I’m not letting any ex-convicts into this house!” Kes called.

“Dad! _Please_!” Poe whined. He could hear Sam crying from somewhere in the house, and he just wanted to see his _boy_. “I’ve done way worse than this before, come on, dad.”

“Ooh, are there _stories_?” Rey asked eagerly, from inside the house.

“If you want in it's going to cost you!” Finn added as he went to the door. He opened it just far enough to stick his head out. “Payment will be accepted in the form of stories of your misspent youth.”

Rey, in the middle of scolding Finn for being a pushover, changed her mind and cheered him on.

Sam, unimpressed with any of it, chewed sullenly on the toy Kes had handed him.

“Buddy, there are stories even dad doesn't know,” Poe said, bursting through the door and beelining for Sam.

Sam, either mad at Poe's absence or worried by Poe's intensity, turned away with a small sob to push against Rey's shoulder.

“Sammy—” Poe deflated, and turned to his father. “Dad, look, I can explain.”

“It's fine, I already changed all the locks and wrote you out of the will,” Kes said evenly, and when Poe rolled his eyes he pulled his son into a hug. “You're too old to pull this shit, mijo. I'm too old for it.”

Poe sighed, relaxing into his father's arms. “I know, I know, I'm sorry.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too, Pop.”

Now that people were hugging, Sam had gotten over himself and wanted to be a part of this, crying and reaching for Poe. Rey kissed his cheek and handed him off to his Papa—he also got a kiss on the cheek once his arms were full of fussy Sammy.

“You’re okay? With how things turned out?” Finn asked Poe uncertainly. The extra shifts on top of those he'd assigned himself were basically meant for one purpose: for all intents and purposes, Leia had grounded Poe for the foreseeable future. And she'd made it pretty clear that was why she was doing it—to keep him out of a cockpit, and hopefully out of trouble, for a little while.

Finn remembered the _last_ time he and Poe had discussed the concept of being grounded.

“I mean,” Poe said, bouncing Sam in his arms to try to console him, and he laughed in spite of everything. “I’m still an Admiral, so _that_ sucks.”

He eased into a chair and winked up at them, helping Sam to practice standing on his thighs. “But, ah. It’s not like I gotta impress anyone, right? Already married to the most gorgeous people in the Resistance, and they give me all the thrills I need.”

“ _O_ kay,” Kes grumbled, noting his cue to leave.

“You know what I mean, though, right?” Poe asked, looking back and forth between Rey and Finn. “It’s stupid to _love_ such a dangerous gig, when I’ve got all three of you counting on me to make it home. If the galaxy’s in danger, of course I’ll be there, but only because you both will be, too. In the meantime…”

Poe took in a breath, and let it out in a huff. “It’s really kriffing nice to be home for dinner, you know? And Sammy time.”

“Tham tie!” Sam repeated, flinging his arms wide, and they laughed and praised his attempt at words.

“ _Now_ you see why I quit,” Kes said from the doorway, like he had won an old argument.

While Finn blinked at Poe in pleased surprise, Rey smiled and absolutely did _not_ get a little misty-eyed.

“Adventure makes you late for dinner,” she said softly, “Though we could go on _family_ adventures sometimes.”

She would be happy exploring the stars, going on adventures—as long as she didn't have to go alone.

“And we can all cook in the galley on the _Falcon_ ,” Finn added, having found his words.

“Sounds good to me,” Poe laughed, as Sam babbled at him and attacked his chin, gnawing on it and sending a river of drool down his front. “Hey, little mister, what's this I hear about teething, huh? Let's get a look at these beauties.”

Poe coaxed Sam's mouth open by making him laugh, getting a few flashes of white. “Look at you, kiddo!”

“Tiddo!” Sam repeated, arms flung wide.

“Those are your teeth, can you say teeth?”

“Teat!”

Poe laughed and hugged him, making Sam squeal loudly. “Yeah, ah, we'll learn that word when you're older. Look at this guy, all talky no walky. Maybe we're spoiling him. Come here, son.”

Poe set Sam down a few feet away from them. He immediately began to cry.

“Aw, son, no, look, I know you can crawl! Come here, come to Papa!”

Sam, either annoyed or unsure, flailed his arms and reached for Poe, and when this accomplished nothing, whacked at the floor with his hand and mechno-arm. Finn and Rey went to stand by Poe and provided further encouragement while Sam reached for them.

[Friend-tiny-Sam! We will go get them.] BB-8 said, rolling up next to the distraught baby. They wobbled softly back and forth and Sam patted them, mollified for the moment. [Let us try again!]

BB-8 rolled just barely out of reach and wobbled, and Sam whimpered and reached for them until he overbalanced and fell partially onto his belly. In frustration, he squirmed until he was upright again, but sitting on his feet and balancing forward on his hands.

After that he seemed to realize the game was up and if he wanted BB-8 or his parents he was going to have to get them himself. He pushed himself up to all fours and shuffled toward BB-8, very annoyed by this arrangement.

“Oh Maker I just love his little frown!” Poe cackled. “You mad, bro? You mad? Go get ‘im!”

The little droid rolled just close enough for Sam to touch them and then, with a waterfall series of beeps suspiciously like laughter, zoomed behind Rey, Poe, and Finn and leaned their dome sideways to peek out at Sam from behind their legs.

Now Sam screeched with laughter, and started following after BB-8 at a good pace, chasing him round and round, his little butt wiggling as he crawled after the droid.

“Yeah, man, look at him go!” Poe whooped. “Get them, Sammy, you get BB-8!”

Poe wondered what the First Order was teaching Finn at this age—or would have been teaching Sam, for that matter, and it only hardened his resolve. Sam was going to have a normal childhood, with normal parents who loved him and who were always there for him. He wasn't going to miss out on that.

And as she felt Poe falling into place, properly anchored at last, Rey felt a pang of longing so strong she almost had to hold back a sob, or pretend that it was one of joy at the unfolding scene.

She could only see herself screaming in agony as she confronted Snoke. She could hear his voice: _Fulfill your destiny._

And it _must_ be to die, because taking part in anything he wanted her to was _not_ an option.

It almost crushed her, the fear of it, invading her thoughts even now, but what could she do? What could Finn and Poe do, if she told them? It would only ruin this moment with them. Who knew when it might be the last such moment?

Finn laughed as Sam, who'd apparently been holding out on them so he could be carried and cuddled all the time (not that Finn blamed him), chased BB-8 around the floor. He looked over at Rey, expecting to see an answering smile, but she wasn't really paying attention. She looked...lost. Not-quite-here. Something. She felt—wrong.

“Rey? Where'd you go?” he asked her gently, reaching to touch her hand. “You alright?”

Rey blinked, snapping out of it. Here. She was _here_. “Yes. Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Now, _Rey_ ,” Poe said, and Kes joined him: “wot ‘ave we told you about finking?”

It was a family joke, a line from some old dumb cartoon based on the outrageously terrible Core accents they attempted, and it soon had Finn laughing, which had Sam screech-laughing in imitation of his dad and not remotely thinking about his teeth. And it made Rey laugh, too, shaking her from her dark thoughts (that were always there, just waiting, it seemed).

“Ha ha,” she said, and prodded Poe. “Shouldn’t you be getting cleaned up? We won’t wait to eat.”

“You got five minutes!” Kes called from the kitchen, and Poe yelped and vaulted himself over BB-8 and Sam to wash and change his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this installment, folks! Thanks for reading, and thanks to all those who encourage us with kudos and comments. The next story should go up on schedule, but apologies in advance if updates are less regular in the coming weeks.


	11. Epilogue

“So...my extra duties never showed up on my roster,” Lottie whispered across the table to Jeenkins during breakfast.

“Oh, thank gods, you, too?” Jeenkins said, setting his fork down. “I was worried it was just me. We lost, right?”

“I think the Colonel forgot,” Rendar said, and even though she was on the winning blue team, she shrugged, “ _I’m_ not gonna be the snitch that reminds him.”

Chatter among the ranks was common among the infantry, but what was unusual about this particular interaction was the fact that a stormtrooper, a republic soldier, and a resistance soldier were all involved.

“What if he's just...you know, biding his time? Or testing us to see who will be honest?” Lottie asked nervously, the implication clear: she worried that whoever didn't tell would be punished for being dishonest.

But Rendar and Jeenkins only exchanged a brief glance of stunned disbelief before looking back to their fellow soldier.

“That's not really how it works outside the First Order,” Jeenkins told her, and Rendar nodded.

“ _Especially_ with Colonel Dameron, you know that,” she added gently.

Lottie _was_ one of the newer ex-stormtroopers, but she had definitely been around long enough to know that her Colonel had little patience for tricks and subterfuge.

“And anyway, I'm sure he forgot. Didn't you hear about Admiral Dameron?” Rendar asked.

“What? No!”

“Oh, let me _tell_ you about Admiral Dameron,” Paige Tico said, sitting down with Rose, who couldn’t contain her giggles. “He tried to get us all, and himself, _killed_ , is what happened.”

“Oh, I heard there was a surprise drill or something?” Jeenkins checked.

“Ha! That’s what they’re _saying_...”

“But that's not what _you're_ saying?” Lottie asked, and Paige looked over at her—but only after she was done trying (and failing) to glare her sister into silence.

“Let's just say your Colonel has his hands full. If I were you, I'd just keep my head down for the next couple days while he's too busy being furious at his husband to remember a little thing like an _actual_ training exercise,” she said. "He's probably forgotten all about the extra duties."

“But you didn't hear it from us, even though you kinda did,” Rose added, still wheezing slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thewonderfulthingaboutfish reminded us about some loose ends we didn't ever actually tie up, so have a short epilogue!

**Author's Note:**

> Running List of OCs:
> 
>  **Berno Bey:** Male human, Poe's maternal grandfather.  
>  **Breha Bey:** Female human, Poe's cousin, of comparable age to Rey and Finn.  
>  **Coni:** Female human Resistance soldier. Likes illegal tackles in Boloball.  
>  **Deeks:** Male human ex-stormtrooper, now pilot for the Resistance, complete dork.  
>  **Jonorai:** Female Twi'lek in charge of the Resistance daycare center.  
>  **Jura Bey:** Female human, Poe's maternal grandmother.  
>  **Karlo Dameron:** Male human, Kes' brother.  
>  **Colonel Lightbridge:** Male human, Republic officer.  
>  **"Nana" Dameron:** Female human in her late 80s, Kes' mother. Suffers selective dementia.  
>  **Reist:** Nonbinary human Resistance soldier.  
>  **Dr. Rok Ori:** Male Chiss doctor who specializes in cybernetics and is obnoxious.  
>  **Rokko:** Female Zabrak tattoo artist.  
>  **Sall:** Female Bothan physical therapist for the Resistance.  
>  **Sam Dameron:** Finn's clone rescued from a First Order cloning facility, adopted by Finn, Rey, and Poe. Drools a lot.  
>  **Sevens:** Nonbinary human ex-stormtrooper now Resistance soldier. Dating Jessika Pava.  
>  **Dr. Tamo Lan:** Female Ewok doctor of psychology, therapist for ex-stormtroopers.  
>  **Tano Bey:** Male human, Breha's husband. Childhood friends with Poe.  
>  **Timons:** Female human ex-First Order tech, was on the officer track before defecting. Major PTSD and anxiety.  
>  **Torch:** Male Zabrak Resistance soldier. Finn's second in command.
> 
> ...
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! And if you haven't read the rest of _Stars and Skies_ , we hope you'll check out the series.
> 
> Please let us know what you like or what we can improve on in the Comments. You can also come bother us on Tumblr at [Maeglinthebold](http://maeglinthebold.tumblr.com/) and [A-singer-of-songs](http://a-singer-of-songs.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And, as always, a shout-out to commenters and to the very supportive [SWWA](https://starwarswritingalliance.tumblr.com/)! 


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